What we look like redux

I could tell that this woman following us was anxious to talk to us, or at least to me. She was almost out of breath when she caught up with us at a crosswalk. While we waited for the light to turn green, she inquired if we were Russian. 

I have gotten this question many times since we moved to Beijing. Sometimes in Changping, sometimes on the Metro, I am asked, "你是不是俄罗斯人? Ni shi bushi eluosiren?" Nearly every time, after I say we are not, I probe to see if they speak Russian, and that perhaps is why they are so interested in whether we are Russian. Never have I had someone acknowledge knowing any Russian.

It wasn't that strange, then, when this woman who had trailed us for half a block asked in Chinese if Russia were our home country. We had gotten it before. What was different was her obvious disappointment that we were not Russian, especially since, as she volunteered, she could speak Russian.

At last, I thought. Someone wanted to practices speaking Russian, and not English, with us, though we could not oblige her. When I admitted that we were American, she confessed that she spoke no English. Not once in our brief conversation as she walked the next half-block with us did she express any surprise that I could speak any Chinese. But then again, she could speak Russian, a far more astonishing accomplishment in my mind.

I was interested, of course, how she came to learn Russian. She told me she had studied it in her hometown in Heilongjiang Province, near the Russian border. She could speak, read and write. Clearly she enjoyed how impressed I was.

Hoping to give her the chance to demonstrate her command of Russian before we parted at her apartment complex gate, I told her I only knew about three Russian words. What came out of my mouth sounded more like "Dos Feh Donya." She scrutinized me for a second, and then her face brightened. Grinning, she corrected me in a mix of Chinese and Russian, "No, you say it like this: до свидания!"

I repeated it after her, bidding her goodbye in a language she was proud to know. 

As the kids and I continued ourselves, past this woman's elderly neighbors (who did not hide their curiosity), Brigid wanted to know what that lady and I had been discussing. I explained to her in Chinese, partly for the benefit of the audience, that the auntie wanted to know if we could speak Russian because she had studied Russian, which meant she must be very smart. Myles, who had not realized that I was partially staging my response, repeated back in Chinese with emphasis, "Very smart!"