Babushkas

I am posting using Jenia's account, because I lack proper blogging skills. - Katie

Before coming to Russia, I heard many things about “babushkas”. I formed an image of them in my mind – stern elderly ladies wearing molding fur coats and hats and wielding their sturdy handbags with power. Not-so-friendly grandmas who budge in front of you in lines, yell at you on the metro if you don’t give them your seat for the one stop they will be riding, and scold you in fast angry Russian if you make some unwitting cultural mistake, like sitting on the floor (you might freeze your ovaries!).
Getting here, I realized that my picture of a babushka wasn’t completely off track, yet it was. There are definitely those who will budge in front of you without a second thought, or yell at you for some unknown reason, and when you say, “Izvinitye, poszhalusta, ya nye znyaiyu” (“I’m sorry, I don’t know”), they continue to scold and gesticulate all the more.
But, the babushkas are wonderful, too.
We were riding the metro in Moscow, and as usual, because of my money belt, I looked pregnant (see any picture of me on this trip for confirmation). I ended up standing next to three babushkas sitting down. As the train began to move, one tapped me on the arm, and then all three of them began trying to offer me one of their seats. I was at first very surprised, but I soon realized that they assumed I was pregnant, and wanted me to be able to sit. I thanked them and had to say no several times, before they finally accepted with smiles. We got off at the next stop, and they smiled me on my way. I was so moved by their kindness. Perhaps it doesn’t seem like much, offering a seat to a girl you think is pregnant, but I was really touched.
Also, we have come to learn that babushkas are the best people to ask for directions. Clare and I were searching for a particular coffee shop the other day, and we asked many babushkas for directions. Every time, they were so willing to help, though they may have had no idea where exactly we wanted to go. Our Russian is fairly minimal, and most babushkas we talk to don’t speak any English, but they are always determined to try and help. There was one lady in particular who was so sweet. I asked her if she knew where a certain coffee shop (that I was probably pronouncing wrong) was. Her face lit up, and she straightened and said proudly, “Da! Ya znayu!” (“Yes! I DO know!”). She spoke and spoke and pointed straight ahead, then smiled broadly and waved us on our way. Clare and I never did actually find where we were looking for, but that babushka was so incredibly sweet that we both agreed she had made our night.
I love the babushkas here. Sometimes I just want to ask them for directions, though I know where I’m going, just to get a chance to talk to them. Every one we’ve ever asked (and there have been many) has been sweet and helpful. I am enjoying touring very much, and the theater experiences have been wonderful. But, I think the babushkas are one of the things I will miss the most when I leave Russia.

-Katie