The joys of miscommunication.
May. 2nd, 2005 06:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
quem98.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
learn_russianI wanted to post this as a comment to the last post, but then it got a bit long...
My first trip to Russia, lived in Vladimir for six weeks in the Summer. That August I wanted to visit Ukraine, so I needed to go to Moscow to get a Ukrainian visa from the Consulate. When I went to drop off my passport, the Resident advisor of my program went with me, so it was ok... However, when it came time pick up my passport, I was informed that I was on my own. My Russian was pretty shaky, so this prospect scared the crap out of me.
I got to Moscow in the morning and navigated the subway system to the Consulate. no sweat. When I arrived I was confronted by what can only be described as a horde of people crowding the little door to the consulate. It was like the opposite of a roach motel; People were going out, but not in.
I tried to figure out what I had to do.
"Что происходит?" What's going on? I asked one woman.
A woman responded... "Ничего не происходит." Nothing is going on.
I wasn't getting my point across.
"Виза.. Где получить виза?" My grammar still needed work. Someone handed me a list to write my name on and said something with the word "passport" in it.
This I understood. "Пасспорт! Мой пасспорт там в посольстве!"
The man snatched the list away from me. Some lady next to him said
"Девушка. Еще рано. Нужно прийти в 16:15." This was at 10:30 in the morning.
ok I said to myself. 4:15. I can come back at 4:15. My train doesn't leave until 6. I can do this. Just don't panic.
Yep... Not panicking. *whimper*
So I bummed around the center of Moscow. At this point there was nothing better to do. My RA was nice enough to give me a map, and I sort of knew where I was, so I did some exploring.
I came back 45 minutes early. I was the first one there. After a few minutes of waiting, a young woman stood behind me and asked if I was waiting to pick up my passport. I nodded. For some reason, I understood her perfectly. Other people came up to ask me things and I had no clue what they were saying. She would answer them and I would understand the answer just fine.
While I was waiting to be let in, I noticed a little call box next to the door which I didn't see before. Little old ladies would occasionally push the button and plead to the voice on the other end to be let in.
And the only thing I could think was... Shit. There was just no way in Hell I was going to be able to state my case to the gruff voices on the other end of that intercom.
By the time it was my turn, the thought of speaking Russian into the little box had reduced me to a state of panic verging on abject terror. I walked up to the callbox, shaking... Unable to speak. I looked up at the woman behind me and made some emphatic hand gestures. She must have taken pity on me, because she went to push the button and asked if we could be let in. The door clicked open. I could almost hear choirs of angels singing in the background. I got in, got my passport, thanked the lady behind me profusely, and sprinted for the train.
Epilogue...
On the subway ride to the Vokzal, I took a seat next to a relatively young Russian guy. All of a sudden he turned to me and said.
"Девушка, давайте познакомиться" (Girl, let's get acquainted)
At first I had no clue what he was saying.
"ч...ч..что?" I manage
"Познакомиться."
"Что?" I still didn't understand him.
"по-зна-ко-мить-ся! Можно или нельзя?"
Every nerve in my body snapped.
I blurted out: "Нет! Нельзя!"
And promptly got off at the next station.
Oh yeah. I'm smooth. Aren't language barriers fun? If anything, they make for great stories.
My first trip to Russia, lived in Vladimir for six weeks in the Summer. That August I wanted to visit Ukraine, so I needed to go to Moscow to get a Ukrainian visa from the Consulate. When I went to drop off my passport, the Resident advisor of my program went with me, so it was ok... However, when it came time pick up my passport, I was informed that I was on my own. My Russian was pretty shaky, so this prospect scared the crap out of me.
I got to Moscow in the morning and navigated the subway system to the Consulate. no sweat. When I arrived I was confronted by what can only be described as a horde of people crowding the little door to the consulate. It was like the opposite of a roach motel; People were going out, but not in.
I tried to figure out what I had to do.
"Что происходит?" What's going on? I asked one woman.
A woman responded... "Ничего не происходит." Nothing is going on.
I wasn't getting my point across.
"Виза.. Где получить виза?" My grammar still needed work. Someone handed me a list to write my name on and said something with the word "passport" in it.
This I understood. "Пасспорт! Мой пасспорт там в посольстве!"
The man snatched the list away from me. Some lady next to him said
"Девушка. Еще рано. Нужно прийти в 16:15." This was at 10:30 in the morning.
ok I said to myself. 4:15. I can come back at 4:15. My train doesn't leave until 6. I can do this. Just don't panic.
Yep... Not panicking. *whimper*
So I bummed around the center of Moscow. At this point there was nothing better to do. My RA was nice enough to give me a map, and I sort of knew where I was, so I did some exploring.
I came back 45 minutes early. I was the first one there. After a few minutes of waiting, a young woman stood behind me and asked if I was waiting to pick up my passport. I nodded. For some reason, I understood her perfectly. Other people came up to ask me things and I had no clue what they were saying. She would answer them and I would understand the answer just fine.
While I was waiting to be let in, I noticed a little call box next to the door which I didn't see before. Little old ladies would occasionally push the button and plead to the voice on the other end to be let in.
And the only thing I could think was... Shit. There was just no way in Hell I was going to be able to state my case to the gruff voices on the other end of that intercom.
By the time it was my turn, the thought of speaking Russian into the little box had reduced me to a state of panic verging on abject terror. I walked up to the callbox, shaking... Unable to speak. I looked up at the woman behind me and made some emphatic hand gestures. She must have taken pity on me, because she went to push the button and asked if we could be let in. The door clicked open. I could almost hear choirs of angels singing in the background. I got in, got my passport, thanked the lady behind me profusely, and sprinted for the train.
Epilogue...
On the subway ride to the Vokzal, I took a seat next to a relatively young Russian guy. All of a sudden he turned to me and said.
"Девушка, давайте познакомиться" (Girl, let's get acquainted)
At first I had no clue what he was saying.
"ч...ч..что?" I manage
"Познакомиться."
"Что?" I still didn't understand him.
"по-зна-ко-мить-ся! Можно или нельзя?"
Every nerve in my body snapped.
I blurted out: "Нет! Нельзя!"
And promptly got off at the next station.
Oh yeah. I'm smooth. Aren't language barriers fun? If anything, they make for great stories.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:25 pm (UTC)Рурю Now imaginr the same thing at every little occasion for, errr, about four months or so and you'll probably understand how I was feeling when I came to US. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-02 11:51 pm (UTC)Нет! Нельзя!
Heh heh... poor человек. He must have felt pretty darn некрасивый. Hm... speaking of which...
no subject
Date: 2005-05-03 01:15 am (UTC)Re: On a completely random side note...
Date: 2005-05-03 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-03 02:58 am (UTC)Можно подружиться с тобой? Ты мне очень нравишься. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-05-03 03:08 am (UTC)[Offtopic]
Date: 2005-05-03 05:53 am (UTC)Re: [Offtopic]
Date: 2005-05-03 01:36 pm (UTC)You have to understand that at that point in my career as a Russian speaker, anyone talking to me out of the blue sent me into a bit of a panic. At that point in time even more so.
But I'm better now! Really!
Re: [Offtopic]
Date: 2005-05-03 02:48 pm (UTC)Re: [Offtopic]
Date: 2005-05-03 03:16 pm (UTC)For example, when a middle aged married man goes to a bar and hits on young women - That is schetchy.
Or a bar can be scetchy if the people who frequent it look like they haven't seen a bath in months.
It can also be used to describe someone (or something) who just rubs you the wrong way and you don't really know why.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-03 09:32 am (UTC)"What? What?! NO! GO AWAY! EMBASSY! EMBASSY!"
no subject
Date: 2005-05-03 01:21 pm (UTC)