After my last post, one of my cousins got nostalgic for her old Bukvar and thought she’d try to buy one online. She found one on Amazon, to the tune of $2,450. My heart is breaking that I didn’t have the fortitude to do anything more useful with mine than mark it all up for a future blog post. I thought I’d share some of […]
12 things I learned about Soviet childhood from my Bukvar Continue Reading
I wrote a bit last time about one of my ‘immigrant identity crisis’ vignettes that I shared at the Limmud retreat. But it started with an assignment, to bring an artifact, or object, from home about our Russian-Jewish heritage. When you and your childhood home are separated by over 3,000km, digging up an acceptable artifact – Was it interesting enough? Too trite? Russian enough? Too
Russian Bukvar for beginners – How I almost didn’t learn Russian Continue Reading
I forgot the word for helicopter the other day. For the rotor, actually. And I didn’t forget so much as remember it in the wrong language. My brain froze up and then offered me nothing but a very Russian “vyertolyot“. The end result is that I have a toddler who will never know what those non-airplane things in the sky are called. I actually have
Apparently, there are words I still don’t know in English. Like apron. Continue Reading