My brother has shacked up with a dyevushka... and he doesn't even know it

I'm becoming so eloquent in my Russian that I can introduce my whole family.

[In Russian] This is my sister. She has a husband and a daughter. This is my brother. He has a wife, a daughter and another on the way. This is my brother. He has a.... [In English]... "How do you say girlfriend in Russian?"

"Oh," says my teacher. "Dyevushka."

At which, I dissolve into giggles. Ongoing giggles. I simply cannot stop. Tonya, my teacher, looks at me like I'm crazy. I try to offer an explanation...

"My brother has a 'young lady' oh har har har."

Never mind that the word 'dyevushka' stirs up in me all the bad things about Ukraine I can imagine: break-neck stilettos, slutty mini-skirts, sleazing onto western men, vying for green cards. Thus, I consider dyevushka a naughty word.

And never mind that my brother has been going out with his 'dyevushka' for longer than us three married siblings have been married... combined. She's not of the 'let's nab a westerner' dyevushka ilk. I think my brother should marry her just to save her from this shame in my Russian lessons.

To top it off, my teacher then set me a task to answer her questions. "Please only answer these questions in the third person singular," she said.

Well, that was the end of the lesson. I just couldn't stop laughing. Too much blog-world for me today.

Kyiv Day of Prayer?

The other day as I was resurfacing from the depths of the Metro, I spotted one of my strangest sights to date in Kyiv.

Now, in my time, I've attended some rather fervent prayer sessions at pentecostal church services. So when I was walking through the tunnels of the Kyiv Metro and saw two dyevushkas clinging to each other, heads bowed, whispering intently I assumed they were overcome with emotion and prayer. I felt like I was in a Hillsong congregation on a Sunday morning.

But there were two things that struck me as odd.

1) The dyevushkas were stopped in a narrow tunnel... Not so surprising, as in their endless quest to be noticed, dyevushkas think nothing of stopping suddenly in a torrent of pedestrians. They're probably hoping a prospective husband will trip over their stick-thin legs and whisk them away to a life in the States. But these ones were really putting their lives on the line by blocking 300 cranky Ukrainians who were just as keen as I was to emerge from the hot, stinky Metro.

2) Ukraine isn't the USA - it's not exactly known as a charismatic Christian heartland, or really Christian at all for that matter. At best, a Ukrainian will be spotted strolling into a church to take shelter from the elements and plant a sloppy one on a portrait of a saint. But so removed are the Ukrainians from Christianity in general that they don't have Christmas trees here, they have New Years trees. Although Christmas is a good excuse to take holidays and enjoy public inebriation.

My heart went out to these desperate dyevushkas as I watched them at their prayers. One of the girls was almost crying, she was so upset, and her companion was clutching her, physically holding her upright for fear she would faint... Or so I thought.

Then the devastating(ly funny) reality dawned on me. One of the dyevushkas couldn't move because her stiletto heel was stuck in the pavement grate. Oh, it was the funniest thing I've ever seen! I just hope her prayers were answered, cause all I could see was a $300 pair of boots going, well... down the drain!