Something I’ve been asked — both directly and tacitly — is how I can manage to get around in a country where I don’t know the language.  (Actually, I don’t know either language, which isn’t necessarily doubly hard, but it’s not half as easy either.)  The truth is that it is really not as bad as you would think.

A little dab will do ya
While I would love to have a full command of the Russian language — and if I get a little more diligent about using my Rosetta Stone software, that may someday be the case — knowing a few of the basics really helps a lot.  One of the most helpful things I did was to learn the Russian alphabet.  Even though we learn to speak English before we learn the alphabet, I wanted to be able to “read” (or at least sound out) the words being presented in my various learning tools.  I could have just stuck with learning things by ear, but I’m really glad I took the time upfront to learn the alphabet.

You’d be surprised how many similar words exist between English and Russian.  For example, “salad,” which in Russian is spelled “салат.”  This looks funny, but actually sounds like “shallot,” but with an “s” instead of an “sh.”  In other words, it almost sounds like “salad.”  Same thing for “soup” – “суп,” which is pronounced exactly the same way.  Moon is луна (“luna”), and just like everywhere else in the world, OK is “OK.”  So being able to read (however slowly) words often helped out a lot.

What helped even more, though, is knowing some key words and phrases, namely “please” and “thank you.”  A few others don’t hurt either, like “hello,” “good-bye” and “excuse me.”  I think it’s a truism for everywhere, but being polite can help defuse many a situation.  Plus I’ve heard — and this seems to be true — that people are more accepting of you and your failings if they at least see that you are trying to use their language, follow their customs, etc.  A huge goal for both of my trips was not to come off an an “ugly American,” and I think I did pretty well in that regard.

It also really helped that nearly everyone in Ukraine knows a little English; it is actually a required subject in schools these days.  Even so, you can’t expect a lot.  Imagine if you took a half-year of Spanish in the fourth or fifth grade, and then fifteen years later you were trying to communicate with a Spanish speaker.  How well do you think you’d fare?  Well, it’s about the same for most Ukrainians.  Plus with out of the way places like Mariupol, there just isn’t a lot of English-speaking traffic coming through, so people are definitely a little rusty but they are willing to try.

It’s in there somewhere
Something I noticed last year is that all my foreign language learning appears to get crammed into one part of my brain.  I came to this conclusion after, time and again, needing to say something and having the wrong language pop out of my mouth.  You’d think that language would be English, but as often as not it was Italian or German — and I don’t even speak those languages.  Apparently a little learning truly is a dangerous thing.  Still, it was rather amusing to be in a situation where I needed to say “excuse me” (in Russian, “извините”) and having the Italian “scusi” pop out.  Or when asking for water (“вода”) and saying “wasser” instead.  I’m really surprised I didn’t dredge up more Spanish; I think I know a little more of than and I hear it a lot more often.

This year was a lot better.  Maybe I’ve learned enough Russian to make my brain set up a foreign language annex.  This year, when I needed to say извините, I actually said извините.  For some of these basic words, I don’t believe I even had to think of what I wanted to say in English first and then come up with the Russian word.  Of course, “excuse me” (извините) is something I tended to say a lot, so maybe that’s not a good example.  Even so, things were definitely a bit easier this time around.

There were some times when I screwed up, of course.  I know there were a couple times when I said “I know” (Я знаю – “ya znaiyoo”) when I actually meant “I understand” (Я понимаю – “ya panamaiyoo”).  Sure, a simple and understandable mistake, but still two different meanings.  I don’t think I screwed up at any critical point — saying “I know” and coming across like a know-it-all — but I’d prefer not to make those silly mistakes.  (In case you’re wondering, the backwards R is pronounced “ya,” and when it’s all alone like it is above, it means “I” or “I am.”  Here endth the lesson.)

“My hovercraft is full of eels”
(Bonus points for anyone who gets the witty and clever reference of this subtitle.)

Phrasebooks are useless.  There; I’ve said it.  Oh sure, they can help you learn a phrase, but what happens then?  Unless it’s a declarative statement (“I don’t speak Russian”), more than likely you’re going to get a response and your guidebook is not going to help you with that, now is it?

This occurred to me when I was using this nifty little app I had picked up for my iPod.  Don’t get me wrong; it’s a great app.  Lots of words and phrases, and if you select one, it will be spoken by a native speaker.  (If you hold your finger down, it will be spoken slowly.)  So it is useful for learning phrases, but unless you know what is being said in response, you’re still out of luck.  It’s great to be able to ask — either by myself or through my app — “Where’s the park?,” but if the respondent says “север” instead of pointing or taking me to the park, I’m just going to be wandering around.  (“север” means north.)

Avast, ye!  A squall!
The main thing that helps with getting around in a foreign country where you don’t know the language, is going to a foreign country where people are generally nice and want to be helpful.  I mentioned elsewhere about the two ladies on the bus who wanted to make sure I didn’t lose anything from my bag; that’s a good example of how people are.  In restaurants, the staff was often quite apologetic when they didn’t have an English version of their menu.  I think it helped that I would ask about the menu in Russian; they could see I was trying, and I really think they wanted to help if they could.

The only time I had any real trouble was one day in a park.  I was sitting on bench with my book and an old man came by begging for “spare change.”  (That’s such a curious phrase.) (Also, I don’t think I saw anyone begging last year, but this time, I saw about one person each day.  Maybe the economy is getting worse over there.)  I used my usual phrases — “Sorry/excuse me,” “I don’t understand” and “I don’t speak Russian” — but I think my accent was confusing him; I had to repeat my self a couple times.  Then I made the mistake of saying “Я американец” — “I am an American” — and this seemed to set him off.  He wasn’t yelling or anything, but he seemed really pissed.  I wish I’d said “I’m a tourist” (“Я турист”) instead, although I don’t know if that would have helped.  It seemed the situation wasn’t getting any better, so I got up, said (in English) “I’m sorry, I’ve clearly upset you, so I’m going to leave now” and I left.

That was really the only bad encounter; most of the time things went much better, even when there was a little difficulty.  On my last day there, I went to the supermarket to get some candy to bring back, and the clerk at the checkout seemed amused by my attempts at Russian.  (Again, it was probably the accent.  And, like I said, Mariupol doesn’t see a lot of English speakers.)  Most encounters were more like that:  a little rough around the edges, but overall fine for everyone.

Repeat after me

• I met with a translator a couple of times during my first days there — just a few bucks and definitely worth it — and one of the things I did was “try out” some of the phrases I expected to be using while I was there.  One of the hard things in Russian (OK, one of the MANY hard things) is knowing which syllable in a word gets the stress, but to be fair, English isn’t that much better.  Mostly, I wanted to make sure that, even with my American accent (and yes, there is such a thing), I was pronouncing things correctly and would be understood.  One of the phrases I was using was “I do not speak Russian.”  (I had cobbled it together last year, but I had the wrong form of “to speak,” so I probably sounded like a moron.)  Apparently I can say that phrase quite well (yea for me!), and my translator found it very funny that I was saying that I couldn’t speak Russian in relatively good Russian.  Kind of like saying “I’m not an actor, but I play one on TV.”
• Something else I’m glad I learned before this trip was numbers; I wish I’d know them last year.  I think in the 2011 blog I mentioned one encounter with a cashier who was a little perturbed at me for not understanding her when she was telling me the amount owed.  (After a couple tries, she keyed the amount into a calculator and showed me.  After that I tended to go to places with cash registers.)  I’m still a little hazy on 50 and above (though eventually I get it), but I can easily count up to 49.  In fact, when I would walk from the Port of Portland office to the terminal to get lunch, I would count my steps in Russian.  That repetition really helped, although it took a little while to get the cadence quite right; Russian numbers have a different number of syllables.