But first, like always, a lesson in lexicon:

The act of saying goodbye is прощание while an actual goodbye is проводы. This is from the word проводи́ть/провожать, which actually means to accompany someone in order to say goodbye to them. Мы проводили ба́бушку с де́душкой на вокза́л We took granny and grandpa to the station. Проводить до до́му to walk someone home. Я проводил её в метро́ I walked her to the subway.

Проща́ться means to say goodbye. If you want to say farewell to someone, you will use this verb (the non-reflexive form) and say проща́й. But I am not saying прощай to any one of you. There is definitely more to come.

I have been writing for this blog for less than a year. The opportunity popped up for me in September of last year and I embraced it with everything I had. Through this incredibly emotional year, I wrote many blogs (actually 22 in total), but I had a lot of fun doing it. Through writing for you, I remembered many good times of my life in Russia, of the journey of over a decade it has taken me to learn it. Let’s take a quick look at what we covered, shall we?

1. My first blog post was thought up at about 10:30AM one weekday morning under oppressive fluorescent lights in an office when I was starved and thinking, how can I make it the next ninety minutes to lunch? I wrote a few other posts about food, including my posts about breakfast time in Russia, as well as some of my favorite Soviet foods that you can find in any Russian store today.
2. We also talked a lot about my favorite topic, which was grammar! I love, love, love grammar! (I know, I’m a bit crazy, aren’t I?) We raced through prefixes for a few verbs, explored prefixes themselves, explored Russian morphology with baby animals, and even I used my own embarrassing mistakes as a teaching tool.
3. I loved covering my favorite topic, which is history. Some of the most read blogs that I posted among the readers of this blog were about history, including my blog about Khrushchev’s great plans for Soviet Kazakhstan.
4. But lastly, it all comes down to the music. This was always my favorite theme to talk about, and I loved stuffing YouTube videos into my posts, which added color and sound to each post, bringing it alive on the screen. We said goodbye to summer with Sofia Rotaru and Alla Pugacheva and even explored some Russian opera through Russian opera stars. And so I leave you now, dear readers, with one of my favorite bittersweet songs from Russian cartoons, Голубой вагон Blue Wagon from the legendary series Чебурашка Cheburashka:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVDkdvEplrQ&t=1s

I wish you all the best and please keep up your efforts to learn Russian, an incredibly rich and beautiful language.

Keep up the good work,

Ryan Green

Goodbyes are tricky, aren’t they? Maybe that’s why the majority of Russian speakers hang up the phone by saying «Давай, пока» or sometimes just the “Давай”. I wish I could do the same, but unfortunately, this will be my final blog here. I do not want our goodbye to be a sad one. Instead, let’s give it all the festiveness of a live show finale, like they have on Russian television. If you have ever seen one of these, you probably heard the TV show host say something like:

Мы с вами не прощаемся, а говорим до скорой встречи!

We are not saying “goodbye forever”, we are saying “until next time”!

So, I thought it would be lovely to go down a memory lane and reflect on the topics that you and I shared over the last two years.

Photo by Genine Alyssa Pedreno-Andrada from Pexels

I.

It all started with my very first blog on Russian interjections. I always thought of these as the smallest part of the Russian language that makes all the difference in the world. Of course, every language-learner needs to familiarize themselves with interjections and expressing emotions in a different culture. But there is something so magically vibrant and uniquely expressive about the Russian “Эх!” or “Ого!” and my favorite “Ну” (especially when said in an indecisive manner).

However, even the most expressive use of Russian interjections would not take you far when speaking the language. And that is where we went into the deep and often treacherous waters of Russian grammar.

II.

Previous writers on this blog created so many wonderful and insightful blogs before me and I really enjoyed building onto them, often creating sequels to already existing topics but also writing my own mini-series on the different parts of the language. From prefixes, particles and conjunctions to dissecting letters of the Russian alphabet – we covered plenty of interesting grammar topics together. And looking back I realize that I did have a fascination with the smaller parts of the Russian language. What can I do since they are the ones that pack the most character!

III.

Speaking of which, we also had very interesting conversations about the Russian culture. I always really appreciated how much you connected with the different topics in the comments and shared your personal thoughts and memories. My absolute favorite were the blogs where I shared the culture through my experiences and family stories with you. Thank you for going to the Russian banya with me, talking about my favorite non-Russian Russian books, reminiscing about Ded Moroz, dyeing Easter eggs with my siblings, and even making kvashennaya kapusta with my grandma’s old family recipe.

IV.

Lastly, I wanted to thank you for being excited and curious with me about all the little language things that Russian has to offer. And I do not just mean particles, conjunctions, and interjections. Do you remember how we spent a whole blog holding the word “рознь” under a microscope? What about the times we analyzed every aspect of the words like терпение, подвести, and изюминка? Or how fun it was to mess with Google translate through some Russian double-negatives and the power of Russian syntax. I will certainly miss these times. Thank you for two very exciting years! Wishing you all the best on your language journeys, my friends! Давайте, пока!

Stay curious,

Akbota Yergaliyeva

В Бе́лгороде провели́ соревнова́ние по са́мому до́лгому сиде́нию на дива́не¹

The headline was intriguing because, well, it makes you ask, заче́м?

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

The tough конкурс contest began on June 24 and lasted 4 days, finishing on June 28. From this article:

Изнача́льно уча́стие в нём принима́ли ше́стеро белгоро́дцев, но до фина́ла дошли́ то́лько дво́е. ²

Here we can see the use of собира́тельные числи́тельные collective numerals (underlined). I encourage you to check out Maria’s post about this, which covers the grammar of these curious words. But here is a quick refresher:

They are used with groups of masculine or mixed groups of people, such as дво́е мужчи́н two men, тро́е дете́й three children, че́тверо москвиче́й four Muscovites, пя́теро рыбако́в five fisherman. They are also used with a group of nouns that are plural-only; ше́стеро су́ток five days (from су́тки a day [period of 24 hours]), се́меро трусо́в seven pairs of underwear, во́сьмеро часо́в eight clocks (note that this would refer to the mechanism часы́ clock. Во́семь часо́в (using the cardinal number) would refer to time – eight o’clock). Remember that these numbers are always followed by the genitive plural.

Enough about the grammar and back to the contest. Here was the premise of it, from the АиФ article:

Уча́стник, просиде́вший на дива́не до́льше други́х, получа́ет его́ же в пода́рок.³

That may seem like a lot for a couch, but considering the price tag, 100,000 RUB, it actually may have been worth it. Back to Афиша:

К ве́черу 26 (два́дцать шесто́го) ию́ня конкурса́нтов оста́лось то́лько тро́е. By the evening of June 26 [Sunday], only three contestants were left:

Aleksandr, a thirteen-year-old boy,

Andrei, a driver,

Stanislav, an engineer.

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Днём 27 (два́дцать седьмо́го) ию́ня из го́нки вы́был Алекса́ндр. On the day of June 27 [Monday], Aleksandr was eliminated from the race.

Aleksandr вы́был из игры́ (the word we know, быть to be, with the verbal prefix вы- attached, meaning to be eliminated from a game, contest, etc.) because he is a kid, after all, and some form of child protection services made him leave the competition. Оста́лось дво́е Two were left.

What kept them on the couch? Certainly they must have developed some kind of rapport, as they spent entire days and nights by each other’s side. What motivated them? The Afisha article gives the following reasons:

Андре́й: [в э́том ро́зыгрыше] всё зави́сит то́лько от челове́ка, а не от случа́йности, как э́то обы́чно быва́ет в други́х ро́зыгрышах.⁴

Станисла́в: неда́вно купи́л кварти́ру, поэ́тому но́вая ме́бель «была́ бы кста́ти».⁵

Two different motivations, but it kept them on the couch into June 28 [Tuesday].

Who would come out victorious?

Then came the end, on Tuesday at noon:

Администра́ция торго́вого це́нтра и са́ми уча́стники реши́ли объяви́ть «боеву́ю ничью́» «из гуманита́рных соображе́ний».⁶

And so ended the competition. The competitors didn’t go home empty-handed. Andrei got the couch they sat on. Stanislav was awarded a slightly cheaper (but still nice) couch.

So I leave you with this question:

Дорогие читатели, а вы бы просидели четверо суток, чтобы выиграть новый диван?

The answer is Rhyming Reduplications. I know, real hoity-toity sounding for what it is in practice. 

And if you haven’t already realized, all the rhyming paired words I just used like “super-duper”, “itsy-bitsy” and even “hanky-panky” are all considered “rhyming reduplications” in English. 

You have probably seen some sprinkled in colloquial Russian speech before. And if not, you will likely notice something interesting about these examples. 

Танцы-шманцы – dances

Шашлык-машлык – shashlik or kebabs

Павлин-мавлин – peacock

The added rhyming word gives the pair a meaning of “this thing and the like” or lets the speaker indicate either indifference and dismissal towards the word.

If you thought that these are not much different from the English paired words where you just repeat the word with the first letter switched for ‘sh’ or ‘m’ sound (think ‘fancy-schmancy’), you are correct. But there is a catch. As it turns out, the world of Russian rhyming reduplications is more extensive than English. Let’s see some examples.

Photo by Alex Andrews from Pexels

Where it all starts

Rhyming reduplications enter the vocabulary of Russian children early in their childhood. It is commonly used to describe animal characters in folk tales and children’s stories. The unique part is that the paired word is not a nonsense rhyming word but most always a descriptive adjective or a modified word that adds meaning to the character.

Лягушка-квакушка = a croaking frog

Лисичка-сестричка = a “sisterly” fox (not actually a sister)

Кабан-клыкан = a boar with tusks

Мальчик-с-пальчик = a boy the size of a finger

Мышка-норушка = a mouse that lives in a hole

Зайчик-попрыгайчик = a jumpy hare

Конек-горбунок = a horse with a hump

Муха-цокотуха = a very talkative fly

Сивка-бурка = a gray and dark red horse 

Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva from Pexels

How it develops

All of the above characters come from Russian children’s poems, fairy tales, and stories. But rhyming doesn’t stop there. Plenty of adults use rhyming reduplications in their day-to-day life even if the rhymes originally came from things in their childhood.

Палочка-выручалочка или палочка-помогалочка = a stick or wand that will help you in a fairy tale but now used to talk about helpful people

Каша-малаша = a mess of mixed ingredients or a hodgepodge but also a common way to talk about chaotic situations and mix-ups

Жадина-говядина = a greedy person, although “говядина” (beef) here is purely for rhyming reasons

Крестики-нолики = the game of tic-tac-toe. By the way, the Russian game’s name makes so much more sense because it is just “crosses and zeros”.

And there is even a children’s toy Неваляшка that is a tumbler toy for toddlers. It also goes by the name of Ванька-Встанька. The most common design is of a Russian doll-like character dressed in all red with dark hair in a white scarf. Technically, the toy’s name is just Неваляшка (the one who doesn’t lay down), but because of Samuil Marshak’s famous children’s poem, the name Ванька-Встанька (Van’ka who gets up or Get up, Van’ka) has become a second name for this classic toy. Nowadays, however, there is a different adult product on the market by the name of Ванька-Встанька that is all about not having kids. С чувством юмора у маркетингового отдела этой фирмы всё супер-пупер. (That company’s marketing department has a super-duper great sense of humor).

Photo by Elīna Arāja from Pexels

Homework

While you can certainly find a way to jokingly (or not) call one of your friends жадина-говядина (greedy) or  плакса-вакса (cry baby), there are plenty of rhyming reduplications left for adults to use. Let’s see how many of these you know: 

Гоголь-моголь

Шуры-муры

Страсти-мордасти

Девочка-припевочка

Ёлки-палки

Leave your answers with definitions and/or examples of sentences with these pairs in the comments below.

Фото автора Eugene Liashchevskyi: Pexels

Let’s start with the basics. Here are some definitions of the verb ‘подвести’:

·        First and foremost, подвести means to lead someone close to a certain place with you. What’s the difference between повести and подвести then? Повести is just to lead someone while подвести has an added element of bringing the person really close to something. Сompare:

Она повела меня за собой в библиотеку. She took me to the library with her. 

Он подвёл меня к забору и показал где собака вырыла проход.

He led me to the fence and showed where the dog dug a way out.

·        Подвести счета или подвести итоги – to sum up or to recap

Давайте подведем итоги сегодняшнего урока. Let’s recap today’s lesson.

·        Подводить глаза карандашом – to use eyeliner

Как правильно подводить глаза карандашом? How to apply eyeliner?

Moreover, we even have a derivative noun “подводка” which simply means “eyeliner”.

Как выбрать подводку для глаз? How to choose eyeliner?

Now onto the figurative meaning:

Подводить кого–то is a pretty standard way to say ‘to let someone down’. It does not mean предать, which is ‘to betray’. Other ways to think of this verb is in a sense “to drop the ball”.

Я очень подвёл свою группу с этим проектом.

I really dropped the ball on this project or I really let my team down with this project.

The official definition is “неожиданно поставить кого–то в затруднительное, неприятное положение какими–нибудь действиями” (when your actions put someone in a difficult and uncomfortable situation).

Он меня очень подвел: обещал и не пришел.

He really let me down. He promised to come but never did.

Фото автора Thirdman: Pexels

All the dictionaries online just stated that подвести was a figurative meaning “to let someone down” but no explanation as to why that is. I just felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing because on its own подвести made little sense. I wanted to add a “location”, as if the person is literally lead to a place that will be uncomfortable and difficult, i.e. подвести куда–то или подвести к чему.

And I think my linguistic gut feeling was right because I found an idiom подвести под монастырь and this great in-depth paper that расставила всё по полочкам (put everything in its place).  

Подвести под монастырь: origins

This wonderful person named Zhujkova M. V. wrote a lot about the Dynamic Processes in the Idiomatic Systems of Eastern Slavic Languages but you can read further about this one idiom on pages 130-146.

Here’s the actual link. I just couldn’t resist not rickrolling you¹. Anyway, here are the main takeaways from that chapter of Zhujkova’s study.

Фото автора Vincent Rivaud: Pexels

The figurative meaning of the verb подвести has originated from Ukrainian. There are used to be a lot of phrases that talked about people having to beg for money and food under the walls of monasteries or churches because that’s what people used to do when they lost money or property. Zhujkova provides examples in Ukrainian that would translate to быть под монастырем, стоять под монастырем, уходить под монастырь, etc. She also talks about how people used to say that something or somebody led them to live a life of poverty and therefore beg for money and food under the walls of monasteries. In other words, пойти под монастырь became associated with ‘стать нищим’². Losing one’s wealth or possessions would be a very devastating situation and therefore gave these phrases a very negative tone.

Although no longer a popular idiom, ‘подвести под монастырь’ has essentially the same meaning as the verb подвести on its own. Have you used this verb before or heard it being used? There is a popular Ukrainian song that goes “Ти ж мене підманула, ти ж мене підвела”?³ Perhaps next time you hear it you might just be thinking of the interesting origins of the verb подвести.

Looking for more deep dives into Russian verbs or nouns? See similar blogs here:

Patience à la russe

Two very neat Russian words

In invite you to get acquainted with some legendary известные ру́сские о́перные исполни́тели through some of the roles they are most known for:

А́нна Нетре́бко – «Русла́н и Людми́ла» Михаи́ла Гли́нки¹

Mikhail Glinka (1804-1857) was the first Russian composer to gain notoriety at home as well as abroad. His role as the cornerstone of Russian classical music was cemented by several operas he wrote, which are a part of the regular repertoire of every opera company in Russia and every major opera house in the West, including «Жизнь за царя́» (originally titled «Ива́н Суса́нин», which was also the name used for the opera during the Soviet era), and «Русла́н и Людми́ла».

Based on an 1820 poem by Alexander Pushkin, the opera dives into the world of Russian folktales and features a sorcerer, a bard, the Great Prince of Kiev, and the eponymous Ruslan and Lyudmila, a newlywed couple separated at their own wedding banquet.

Here we can see Lyudmila being played by Anna Netrebko (1971- ), one of the biggest names in modern opera. Originally from Krasnodar, Russia, she currently lives in Austria and regularly makes headlines. She is a treat to see in any role with her beautiful soprano and acting that is always great fun to watch. She began her career at the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg.

Гали́на Вишне́вская – «Ле́ди Ма́кбет Мце́нского уе́зда» Дми́трия Шостако́вича²

Dmitry Shostakovich (1906-1975) was a child prodigy, entering the Petrograd Conservatory at age 13. He composed his First Symphony in 1925 at 19 as a graduation piece.

He composed «Ле́ди Ма́кбет Мце́нского уе́зда» over several years, but the opera was first performed in 1934. Shostakovich was used to navigating the dangerous world of the arts during the Stalin years. However, he was unlucky enough to have had Stalin himself attend one of the performances of this opera, in 1936. This led to a publication of an article in the Soviet newspaper Пра́вда entitled Сумбу́р вме́сто му́зыки – Об о́пере «Ле́ди Ма́кбет Мце́нского уе́зда», believed to have been written by Stalin himself, and part of his attack on formalism. (You can find the text of the original article, translated into English, here.)

The opera was reconfigured by Shostakovich and rebranded as «Катери́на Изма́йлова», the name of the main character in the original story by Nikolai Leskov that told the story of a bored merchant’s wife who falls in love with a farm hand and starts a killing spree with him:

Galina Vishnevskaya (1926-2012) was the shining star of the Soviet stage. She and her husband, cellist Mstislav Rostropovich, were the power couple of Soviet classical music and both led illustrious careers both within the Soviet Union and abroad. They eventually left the Soviet Union in 1974.

Дми́трий Хворосто́вский – «Евге́ний Оне́гин» Петра́ Чайко́вского

Piotr Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) is probably the most well-known Russian composer of all time. His melodies are familiar to a majority of people on the planet. His impressive body of work includes three ballets, four concertos, six symphonies, and ten operas.

Perhaps his most famous opera, «Евге́ний Оне́гин» is a story based on Pushkin’s novel in verse of the same name, about a man, an archetype in Russian literature known as a лишний человек, who wastes his life with cynicism and boredom. Here you can see Onegin, played by the famous Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky, rejecting the beautiful Tatyana, who has just bared her soul to him in a love letter.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky (1962-2017) was a Russian baritone, and a prominent star of the post-Soviet Russian operatic stage. His incredible talent brought him all across the stages of Europe and the US, including alongside his colleague and friend Anna Netrebko. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor at the age of 53 and died of brain cancer in 2017.

Фёдор Шаля́пин – «Бори́с Годуно́в» Моде́ста Му́соргского

Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) was one of “The Five” (Могу́чая ку́чка) of Russian classical music. Although his career and life were very short, he managed to produce some of the most remarkable works of Russian music known throughout the world.

«Бори́с Годуно́в» tells of the ill-fated Russian tsar who reigned from 1598 to 1605, during the Time of Troubles (Сму́тное вре́мя) of Russian history, in which there was a crisis of succession, and after which the Romanov dynasty, which would rule Russia until the Revolution, took power.

Feodor Shaliapin (1873-1938) was a Russian bass who established his career in Russia well before the Revolution of 1917. He emerged from this period as the most memorable performer who put a specific emphasis on acting, which makes his name still quite familiar to opera fans today.

Who are your favorite performers? What is your favorite opera? Let us know in the comments.

Фото автора Egor Kamelev: Pexels

As Russians like to say “Повторение — мать учения“.⁴. For those of you new to Russian language, use this joke below as an opportunity to practice your basic Russian greetings and goodbyes. Reading jokes in a new language also reveals a lot of hidden cultural subtext and references that you might not get from a textbook or an online course. For example, you can gather that hedgehogs are often portrayed as polite and kind characters in Russian tales and cartoons. The other characters here are three mighty Russian bogatyrs or warriors. I suggest to use this famous painting by V. Vastnetsov “Bogatyrs” to imagine the warriors and any depiction of a hedgehog from Russian animation.

Greetings and Goodbyes

In this Russian joke, you will see a lot of “Здравствуй” [ZDRAHST-vooy], which is a polite formal greeting that is just like “Здравствуйте” [ZDRAHST-vooy-tyeh], only the latter one can be used both towards one person or a group of people. “Здравствуй” is also usually reserved for greeting a person you already know.

“До свидания!” [do svee-DAHN-nyah] is a formal way to say ‘goodbye’. It translates to “until (the next) meeting”.

Here is the joke:

Вежливый ёжик идет по лесу, а навстречу ему три богатыря.⁵

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, Илья Муромец!⁶

Илья Муромец: – Здравствуй, ёжик!⁷

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, лошадь Ильи Муромца!⁸

Лошадь: – Здравствуй, ёжик!⁹

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, Добрыня Никитич!¹⁰

Добрыня Никитич: – Здравствуй, ёжик!¹¹

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, лошадь Добрыни Никитича!¹²

Лошадь: – Здравствуй, ёжик!¹³

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, Алеша Попович!¹⁴

Алеша Попович: – Здравствуй, ёжик!¹⁵

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, лошадь Алеши Поповича!¹⁶

Лошадь: – Здравствуй, ёжик!¹⁷

Проезжают дальше.¹⁸

Ёжик: – До свиданья, Илья Муромец!¹⁹

Илья Муромец: – До свиданья, ёжик!²⁰

Ёжик: – До свиданья, лошадь Ильи Муромца!²¹

Лошадь: – До свиданья, ёжик!²²

Ёжик: – До свиданья, Добрыня Никитич!²³

Добрыня Никитич: – До свиданья, ёжик!²⁴

Ёжик: – До свиданья, лошадь Добрыни Никитича!²⁵

Лошадь: – До свиданья, ёжик!²⁶

Ёжик: – До свиданья, Алеша Попович!²⁷

Алеша Попович: – До свиданья, ёжик!²⁸

Ёжик: – До свиданья, лошадь Алеши Поповича!²⁹

Лошадь: – До свиданья, ёжик!³⁰

Идет ёжик дальше, видит, навстречу ему Али-Баба и сорок разбойников. The Hedgehog continues his walk and meets Ali-Baba and the Forty Thieves.

Ёжик: – Здравствуй, Али-Баба!³¹

Али-Баба отвечает: Иди к чёрту, ёжик, мы опаздываем!³²

I had to substitute the original Russian curse words from the punchline, but this joke has never failed me на вечеринке³³. А какие анекдоты вы знаете?³⁴