I think I have mentioned my Fabulous Russian Teacher (RT - I was going to use FRT, but, well . . . ) before - we usually end, or sometimes begin with chatting about some cultural differences between Russia and America (she lived the in US for 12 years). So today I mentioned that yesterday, walking home from the store (about a 20 minute walk), I was stopped 5 times by people asking for directions. 5 times!! seriously! Excuse me, please, where is the metro? where is Arbat? Where is xxxxx street? That is an average of once every 4 minutes (yeah, I can do a little math, thank you). ( In the store, as I was looking for toothpaste and an older woman asked me something about soap. I *think* she was asking what the difference was between them, why so many types? she seemed a little overwhelmed by the variety.)
Sheesh. Sometimes I can answer in Russian - straight ahead, at the restaurant "Praga" turn left (the pat answer for how to get to starry arbat), or whatever, sometimes I have no clue what they asked (I will say, "I dont know" or "I am sorry I dont speak russian" or sometimes, if I am feeling brave, "I am sorry, I didnt hear you, one more time?" - which sometimes works out and I get it the second time, but is risky, because if I dont understand, I have to say so, then it is like - well, why did you make me repeat my question if you dont speak russian?!), sometimes I understand, but I really dont know and I say so (I dunno!), and sometimes I need to ask clarification, which metro? Arbatskaya? Biblioteka Lenina? Tverskaya? Ahotney Rad? Most people can tell when I open my mouth that I am a foreigner, they will either smile politely and walk away, sometimes they know enough english to ask in english - or sometimes, if I can catch them, listen to my choppy directions. If I know where it is, and they start to walk away, I do find myself practically lunging for them, no - please - wait - I understand you - I can tell you where to go! give me a minute! let me help you! As they walk away I yell out the information they need.
I try to carry my map, but it takes a while to dig it out. Some people have maps, some do not. I often see people frowning at maps.
So, like I said, I mention this to my RT and we get into a discussion about maps. I have a big moscow map in my kitchen. I look at it every day. I know where important things are on the map. I try to carry my map with me, I actually have 2 - one I keep in the baby diaper bag, and one in my purse, they are well thumbed through. If I need to go somewhere, I find it on the map, I make sure I know every turn. I say it out loud like a mantra. When I went to stitch group the first time (ok first 3 or 4 times), I would say aloud to myself, walk out, turn left, at xxxx street cross and turn left again, walk a long time past metro station, then turn left at xxx, etc. Then I write it down and carry it with me. (Have I mentioned I have a problem with getting lost??).
Russians dont like maps. Many do not know how to read maps. RT mentioned that she did not know how to read a street map until she came to the US. Why do you need a map when you can just ask? No problem. There are people on the street, someone will know.
Americans do not like to ask directions (you know the old stereotype? men wont ask directions?) Why? It is embarrassing. It is admitting defeat. Admitting you don't know something (yikes!). It also involves talking to a stranger, trusting the stranger . . . .
Russians dont seem to have this hangup Americans have. They will ask. They will talk to a stranger. - as an aside, kind of goes along with the free, unsolicited childcare advice one often received here as well.
My dad, (from Greece) also has no problem asking directions. Sometimes, though, he did not pick the best people to ask. He would stop a kid on a bike and ask how to get to the freeway (my mom lectured him many times on this, first of all, most kids will not/should not talk to a stranger, and what does the kid know?), I remember once on a family trip we got lost in
Compton and my dad asked a pimp how to get to Disneyland (my mom made us roll up the windows) it was very much the
scene from national lampoons vacation.
My sister and I always prided ourselves in being able to pick out foreigners in the US from a crowd. "look- that guy, definitely a FOB (fresh off the boat)". Not necessarily fresh, as many immigrants we grew up with lived in the US for more than 20 years, they just didn't update their wardrobe yet. We could tell by clothes, hairstyle, even body language- hey we grew up around immigrants! we were snarky teenagers!
Now I am the FOB, but, I guess I look the part enough for people to think I live here . . . .