In case you missed it, this is Part 2 of the story about old Russian names for the 12 months of the year. January through June are covered in Part 1. As for the video, it has a connection albeit tenuous to this post, specifically to one of the names for September. 

Июль (July) – the old name of this month was червен or червень. The origin of this word is particularly interesting. So if you speak Russian fairly fluently, you might realize that червень is very close to червь (worm). I don’t know about you, but when I think of worms, I think of either рыбалка (fishing) or огород (vegetable garden) with its beneficial огородные черви (garden worms). Yet while July is the perfect month for doing both fishing and gardening in Russia, that’s not where the old name comes from.

Instead, the month got its name after an insect called червец (coccid). This insect was used as a source of highly valuable red dye. That is why this word червен sounds so familiar to another seldom-used word червлёный (deep-red). So July was the month when these insects were collected for making red dye. By the way, English language has several words for this deep red color: crimson and carmine, both from the Arabic word al-qirmiz meaning a coccid; the third word is vermillion, derived from the Latin word for a “small worm”, vermiculus. (Ok, I’m totally geeking out here).

Before I move on, let me just mention that other names for July were грозник, the month of грозы (thunderstorms) and страдник, from страда (harvest time).

Август (August), my favorite month, was called зарев from зарево (blaze or glow). In this case the glow is that of sunset, but the word зарево is more often used to describe зарево пожара (a blaze of a large fire). August is not just the month of spectacular sunsets, but also of abundant дары природы (bounty of nature) from all the farming and gardening. It is the month of густоед (eating well) and was also known as разносол. Now, that’s a very useful word right there. It is no longer used in its singular form, but only in plural разносолы, meaning delicious food in general and pickles in particular. And in Russia pretty much everything that can be grown or caught can be pickled.

Сентябрь (September) was known as ревун, probably from рёв (bellowing) of animals. Why, I’m not sure, so I like its other two names, хмурень and вересень, better. Хмурень comes from the word хмурый (gloomy, overcast) and вересень from the plant вереск (purple heather).

Октябрь (October) had the name of листопад (leaf fall) which is pretty self-explanatory. The weather was getting worse and worse hence the month’s other name грязник (muddy). The plus side of the muddy and chilly October was that all the field work was done for the year freeing up time for personal life. So October was a traditional wedding month or свадебник, from свадьба (a wedding).

Ноябрь (November) was грудень. It actually comes from the word груда. Right now the word груда means a heap, but back then it also meant a frozen rut in the road. So while there was no snow yet, the ground was already frozen. It was almost winter and hence November’s other name, полузимник (half-winter month).

Finally, it’s time for декабрь (December) or студёный. Ask a Russian to think of a sentence that uses the word студёный and they will likely recite a line from a poem “Russian Peasant Children” by Nikolay Nekrasov (this line, Однажы в студёную зимнюю пору… is a meme in its own right). The words стужа (bitter cold) might not be widely used either, but the word простуда (a cold) sure is. Other than студень, December was also known as ветрозим, a compound word made up of ветер (wind) and зима (winter). Brrr….

And there you have it, all 12 months of the year. Again, for most of the learners of Russian language this information has little practical value. There is no need to memorize any of the Russian words in this post since most of them fell out of use a while ago. However, if you are curious about the history of Russian language, love obscure and forgotten words and crave trivia knowledge, then you might find this post rather entertaining.

Ну и зима выдалась! (This is some kind of winter!) Over where I am right now, daffodils and cherry trees are already blooming and folks are strolling around in t-shirts and flip-flops (and no, I am not in the Southern Hemisphere or in the tropics). All the while, my friends in Volgograd, Russia, mention чрезвычайно холодные дни (exceptionally cold days) with temperatures dipping well below -20 degrees C (- 4 degrees F).

In the absence of снег, лёд и мороз (snow, ice and frost), I resorted to watching one of my favorite childhood cartoons, 12 месяцев (12 Months). If you are not familiar with the story, in a nutshell it’s about a little girl sent to the forest to pick подснежники (snowdrops)… in the middle of winter, in the month of сечень.

Wait just a second, you might say. What month is сечень? Months in Russian sound pretty much the same as they do in English since they are based on the Latin names.

This makes their names very easy to remember. But if you are looking for an extra challenge as well as some interesting Russian language trivia, let’s learn old Slavic names for all the 12 months.

Январь (January) was known as просинец from the verb сиять (to shine) since the days were becoming longer. It was also known as лютовей (lit: a month of fierce wind) and трескун, from the word треск (crackle). If you enjoy reading classical Russian literature or playing World of Warcraft in Russian, you are familiar with a phrase трескучий мороз (ringing frost).

Февраль (February) was called сечень since that was the time for cutting down trees. The verb сечь means to hew or to chop (in addition to “to whip”). Other names for February were лютень (fierce), вьюговей (lit: one that blows blizzards) and бокогрей (lit: one that warms up sides). The latter is because the sun is coming out more in February, but there’s still no real heat.

Март (March) was сухий. It sounds very close to сухой (dry) and has the same meaning. Snow melts and some patches might be not only free of snow, but also dry in March. Such patches are called проталины (thaw holes) and earn March its other name, протальник. Finally, it is also грачевник, a month when грачи (rooks) return.

Апрель (April) used to be called берёзозол. It’s a compound noun made up of берёза (birch tree) and зол… But it’s not the same зол as in the sentence папа был очень зол на Сергея (Dad was very angry at Sergey). In other words, it’s not the short form of злой (angry), but rather a no-longer used word related to the verb зеленеть (to become green). So April is the month of greening birches (hey, that’s quite an interesting image – angry crackling birches of January and grinning birches of April).

April’s other names are even more cheerful – снегогон (one driving away snow), ручейник from the word ручей (stream), and первоцвет, another compound noun made up of первый (first) and цвет, here – a short form of цветок (flower). Another piece of trivia for you – the flower примула (primrose) is sometimes called первоцвет (first-flowering).

Май (May) was травный, травник or травень from the word трава (grass). Not much to add here other than it was also called цветень from цвести (to flower) and ярец. Now that last word is interesting. If you try looking it up online, you will get either links to profiles of all the people with the last name Ярец or a page that explains that ярец is a one-year old beaver. However, the month was named after the sun god, Ярило.

Which brings us to июнь (June) or изок as it was known. I’ve never heard of the word изок until now, but turns out, it is an old word for кузнечик (grasshopper). It is also a month of хлеборост. Hint: another compound word made up of хлеб (bread) and растить (to grow). Neither the word изок nor хлеборост are in use now, but скопидом is. It means “a hoarder” and is another name for June since future harvest depends on the work done in June.

Like it so far? Stay tuned to find out about 6 more months!

I love good sci-fi (this is not an endorsement of this particular book since I haven’t read it). The phrase братья по разуму (lit: intellectual brethren) is sometimes used to describe intelligent (and presumably friendly) space aliens. In this case the aliens are not only unattractive, but definitely unfriendly. 

This post’s idea comes from Richard who mentioned that he was confused by the noun нежить (lit: the undead) that he encountered reading Nabokov’s story “The Wood Sprite”. Indeed, the noun нежить (undead) sounds exactly like the verb нежить (to pamper), but the meanings of the two words couldn’t be more different. False cognates strike again!

As you’ve undoubtedly realized by now, the noun нежить is related to the verb жить (to live). In fact, one of the definitions of the word нежить is всё, что не живёт человеком, что живёт без души и без плоти, но в виде человека… (everything that is not a human being, that lives without soul and flesh, but in human likeness). Simply put нежить не живёт и не умирает (the undead neither live nor die).

This would be a good post for Halloween, don’t you think?

There are quite a few nouns in the Russian language that are formed according to the same principle as нежить:

Неуч (ignoramus) is someone who не учится (does not study). So a teacher might scold нерадивый ученик (lazy, negligent student): А ты, Петров, как был неучем, так им и останешься (And you, Petrov, have always been an ignoramus and will remain such forever).

Нелюдим (misanthrope) is someone who не с людьми (is not around other people, a loner). Я думала, что мой начальник меня терпеть не может, а он просто нелюдим. (I thought my boss hated my guts, but he’s just a misanthrope).

Недруг (enemy) is someone who is не друг (not a friend) as in the old saying без недруга веку не изжить (can’t live out one’s life without having an enemy).

Незнайка (a know-nothing) literally не знает (does not know) much. It is a character from a popular children’s book that also features a character named Знайка (the know-it-all). An adult know-nothing is невежда since he or she не ведает (does not know). Невежда is an old-fashioned word much like the word it came from, ведать (to know).

Somewhat confusingly, the alike-sounding невежа (a boor) is someone who is не вежливый (is not polite). As this quote from Приключения Незнайки и его друзей (Adventures of Know-Nothing and His Friends) shows: Если … какой-нибудь малыш даже скажет обидное слово малышке, то над ним все смеялись и говорили, что он невоспитанный невежа, который незнаком с самыми простыми правилами приличного поведения. (If… a boy were to say rude words to a girl, then all would laugh at him and say that he was an ill-mannered boor, unfamiliar with even the simplest rules of proper behavior.)

Недоделка is an unfinished item, something that is не доделано (is not completely done). Another good word is недоработка, something that is not up to standard yet. Я – человек быстро увлекающийся и легко отвлекающийся, так что у меня больше недоделок, чем поделок. (I am quick to get into something, yet easily distracted.  As a result, I have more unfinished projects/crafts than finished ones.)

Невольник is a rather высокопарный (highfaluting) word that means someone who lacks воля (free will, freedom). In other words, it’s a slave. The most famous line that uses this word is probably the opening of Lermontov’s poem: Погиб поэт! – невольник чести… (The poet’s dead! – a slave to honor…)

Неурядица is probably my most favorite word in this list. Sure, its meaning isn’t all that pleasant – trouble, woe, confusion. But it comes from the word ряд (here: order, harmony). The old Russian уряд (order, rule) is no longer used, but порядок (order) is as popular as ever. После длительной череды финансовых неурядиц Росавиация аннулировала сертификат «Авиановы» (After a long streak of financial trouble, Rosaviatsiya (Federal Air Transportation agency) withdrew Avianova’s (Russian low-cost air carrier) certificate.

This is not исчерпывающий список (an exhaustive list) of Russian не (no) words. Feel free to add more. And if you have a question, let me know and I’ll blog you the answer (or at least something entertaining and educational).

In case you did not know, «я американка» [I'm American]. I grew up here and I go to university here, and I tend to look at foreign affairs through an American lens. I realize that a large portion of our readers are not American, so this post may not be as relevant or apt to you. However, the American ambassador to Russia was recently in the news and I thought it would be interesting to write about him. I present, without further ado, a post about ambassadors and other diplomatic-related vocabulary. In the photo: «посольство Российской Федерации в Лондоне» [embassy of the Russian Federation in London].

The new United States ambassador to Russia is named Michael McFaul (his name is transliterated into Cyrillic as «Майкл Макфол»). «Он работал профессором в Стэнфордском университете» [He worked as a professor at Stanford University]. As ambassador he lives in «Спасо-хаус» [Spaso House], the official residence of the United States ambassador in Russia.

There has been controversy ever since McFaul arrived in Russia because he met with some opposition leaders. Plus, he was involved in the «перезагрузка» [reset] policy with Russia that does not seem to have been entirely successful. McFaul does not speak Russian as well as his «предшественник» [predecessor], John Beyrle. «Байерли свободно говорит по-русски» [Beyrle speaks Russian fluently]. (Seriously, Beyrle’s Russian is amazing. Listen to an interview with him sometime.)

Some more general vocabulary: in Russian, ambassador is «посол», so it is pretty logical that «посольство» is embassy. «Консульство» is consulate. (And remember, the two are different! In general, embassies are usually larger and are led by an ambassador, whereas consulates are led by a «консул» [consul].) «Дипломат» [diplomat] is nice and easy to remember. «Паспорт» [passport] and «виза» [visa] are also nice cognates.

What do you think of the new United States ambassador? Do you have any questions about diplomatic-related vocabulary? Let me know in the comments!

What does this wood goblin have to do with the forest animals in the title of the post? Keep reading and you will find out the connection and the goblin’s name in Russian. Image courtesy of Wikipedia.

This post was going to be about Russian grammar. However, after having our regular чаепитие (tea time) with моя хорошая подруга (my good friend) earlier today, I radically changed my mind for two reasons:

She shared three beautiful LiveJournal blogs with me by Russian фотографы-натуралисты (nature photographers) and I want to share those with you. Besides, it’s Friday, a day when we should probably prepare to ease ourselves into the upcoming weekend.

First, a few words about the LiveJournal blogging platform. In Russia it is known as Живой Журнал (lit: Live Journal) or simply ЖЖ. It seems to be the most popular блог-платформа (blogging platform) in Russia. Thanks to its community sharing and following features it also acts as a popular социальная сеть (social network). In the last few months, it’s started getting upstaged in this role by Facebook, which наконец-то набрал обороты и в России (finally shifted into a high gear in Russia as well).

I will do a tour of ЖЖ some other time. Meanwhile, here’s the link to дайджест (a digest) of the Russian ЖЖ so you can start exploring, reading and learning some великий могучий русский блоггерский язык (the great and mighty Russian language of the bloggers).

And now for the wonderful nature blogs my friend shared with me:

The first blog is authored by Игорь Шпилёнок (Igor Shpilenok), a nature photographer who splits his time between государственный природный заповедник «Брянский лес» (State nature reserve “Bryansk Forest”) in the Western Russian and Кроноцкий заповедник (Kronotzky nature reserve) on Камчатка (Kamchatka), a peninsula in the Russian Far East.

It is mostly pictures accompanied by short stories explaining what’s going on or why the author chose to post each picture. That’s if you want to take it easy and just relax looking at the beautiful photos of Russian wildlife. For those wanting to dig deeper, there are Дальше… (Read more…; lit: beyond, further) links to more detailed stories and even more photos. Igor doesn’t limit himself to just the wildlife though as you can see from this poignant post about his tiny village of Чухраи (Chukhrai):

В одном из самых глухих уголков юга Брянской области, в десятке километров от границы с Украиной, рядом с заповедником «Брянский лес» затерялась деревенька в пятнадцать жителей – Чухраи…

(In one of the most remote corners of the south of the Bryansk region, a dozen (lit: ten) kilometers from the border with Ukraine, near the nature reserve “Bryansk Forest” is hiding a village of fifteen people – Chukhrai…)

The second blog is by Василий Солкин (Vasiliy Solkin). He blogs from Владивосток (Vladivostok), the administrative center and the largest city in Приморский край (Primorsky Krai) in the south corner of the Russian Far East. Plus he keeps up a fantastic website Зов тайги (Call of the Taiga) that is, in his own words, журнал для тех, кто не спешит на Гавайи (a magazine for those who are not in a hurry to get to Hawaii).

Before you start browsing through this blog, I strongly urge you to follow Vasily’s advice:

Дорогой ты мой новый читатель! Добро пожаловать в журнал, главные герои которого – амурский тигр и дальневосточный леопард. Чтобы понять, куда и к кому ты попал, необходимо и достаточно пробежать глазами два сериала: «Плюс радификация всех зверей» и «Леопарды, с которыми лично знаком».

(My dear new reader! Welcome to the magazine where the main characters are the Amur tiger and the Amur (lit. Far Eastern) leopard. To better understand where you are and whom you found, it is necessary and sufficient to skim through the two series of posts: “Plus the radio tagging of all animals” and “Leopards with whom I am personally acquainted”.)

The third and final blog is by Александр Левашов (Alexandr Levashov) whose LJ alias is lev_leshii. By the way, леший (wood goblin) in Russian folklore is хозяин леса (the master of the forest) who lives in the darkest and oldest part of it and keeps it safe. So a леший helps good folks and punishes those who are trying to do harm to its keep.

Alexandr is from Рыбинск (Ribinsk) in Ярославская область (Yaroslavl region). A couple of примечательные особенности (notable features) of the town’s location are that it is located at the northernmost point of Волга (the Volga river) and is situated on условная линия (an imaginary line) dividing зона смешанных лесов (broadleaf or mixed forest zone) from тайга (taiga).

In addition to photos, Alexandr also posts some moving short stories on his blog. After browsing just a bit, I found this one titled Барсучий городок (The Town of Badgers). Enjoy!

I hope you will enjoy these three blogs for both their stunning photography and their beautiful stories about Russian nature. If natural history and conservation appeal to you, this will be a very enjoyable way to improve your Russian language skills as well. Хороших вам выходных! (Have a good weekend!)