Yes, I know . . . when you think of Russians, your first thought isn’t usually about how witty they are. Unless, of course, you’re thinking of Yakov Smirnoff, who is freakin’ hilarious.

The Russian people do, of course, have their own brand of humor — much of it satirical and geared toward political issues. But I find them to be at their funniest when they’re trying to be dead serious, as when Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov spouts his daily ration of horse manure for the world to swallow.

Or consider their everyday manner of expressing themselves. Every language has its nuances, its slang expressions, and its dirty talk, of course. But if there were to be a worldwide contest to name the most varied and — let’s be honest here — the most obscene, the Russian lexicon would win hands-down. Making vodka and declaring war aren’t the only things they’re good at.

Allow me to enlighten you . . .

I have this delightful little book titled “What They Didn’t Teach You in Russian Class.” ** It’s chock full of useful — and some not-so-useful — phrases to carry you through the average day in Moscow, Omsk, or Novosibirsk. The book is arranged by categories, so let’s start with the section on “Acquaintances, coworkers, and enemies.”

** By Erin Coyne and Igor Fisun, Ulysses Press, 2008, 2017.

This one is useful, but not if you want to live much longer:

“All broads are wenches.”

Why the authors think a visitor to Russia would need to know how to say that is beyond me; perhaps they were just trying to give us some insight into the mind of the average (or below average) Russian male. And by the way, there is also a Russian word for guys who say things like that, but it has 19 letters and 10 syllables, so you don’t really want to bother because you’re never going to use it anyway.

But here’s one that might be likely to come up in daily conversation over the water cooler at work: “My boss pays me under the table.” And the reason the boss does that is probably because:

“My manager is sleeping with his secretary.”

And one more for the workplace: “Their CEO was arrested last week for fraud.”

My advice: Quit that job. Now.

*. *. *

After a day at the office, there’s nothing quite so refreshing (or so they tell me) as a trip to a Russian banya, or steambath, where — according to my little book, “It’s fun to hang out naked with your friends.” Yeah? Well, they obviously haven’t seen my friends.

But besides the naked thing, I decided it would probably be best to skip the banya after reading that the following sentences might come in handy:

“Hey, Vasya, could you beat me with that branch a little more?”

And: “Now that we’ve steamed up, let’s go jump in the snow!”

Or my favorite: “He drank too much vodka and steamed himself to death.”

Holy crap!

*. *. *

According to the authors of this priceless little tome, if you ask a Russian why they’re sick, they’ll most likely blame it on the weather, the atmospheric pressure, or “the fact that they sat on concrete under a clear sky while not wearing a hat.” The authors’ words, not mine. And here are some examples:

“He got sick because he wasn’t wearing a hat.”

”One hundred grams of vodka with pepper will cure anything.” (Note: In my personal experience, I have found that 100 grams of vodka — although it might not actually cure you — will likely ensure that you don’t give a damn how sick you are.)

How about this: “Someone must have given me the evil eye, because I’ve been getting sick a lot lately.” (Not actually weather-related, but having grown up with four Russian grandparents, I can attest to the variety of their superstitions.)

Here’s one I don’t recommend trying: “My aunt cured her cancer with special herbal tea.”

And a really scary one: “If you sit on concrete, your ovaries will freeze.” (I’m not sure what they tell the little boys, and frankly, I’d rather not think about it.)

My maternal grandmother didn’t talk about ovaries, but she used to say that if I sat on cold concrete, I would get “piles” (hemorrhoids). It took 60 years for me to find out she knew what she was talking about.

*. *. *

Now here’s a useful chapter . . . on STDs (sexually-transmitted diseases, not short-term disability). In Russian, they’re called BPPPs — and you really don’t want me to spell all that out for you. Putting aside the nasty things that might be said by someone who has caught a BPPP, there are two sentences that you conceivably might — though hopefully not — find useful:

“Do you need a prescription for penicillin in Russia?” and “Where can I find a doctor who treats venereal disease?”

Moving right along now . . .

We come to the dirty stuff. In Russia, there are more ways to tell someone to go f*** themselves than there are North Korean soldiers in Ukraine. If you want to know all of them, you’ll have to buy the book. But I found one in the list that I had actually used once, on my very first trip to Russia in 1988. Some sleazy character in Moscow tried to convince me his car was a taxi (it wasn’t), and offered to drive me to my destination (the U.S. Embassy) for $50 U.S. dollars (which was an outrageous amount, besides being illegal). When he wouldn’t take no for an answer, I used the one phrase I had taken the trouble to learn for just such an occasion: “Yob tvoyu mat.”

In other words, I told him to do something unspeakable to his mother. And it worked. He gave up and walked away . . . at which point the little old man who had been standing nearby witnessing the exchange stepped closer, began patting me on the shoulder, saying (in Russian, of course): “Good for you! No taxi. No dollars. Good for you!”

*. *. *

I loved my time in Russia. But it wouldn’t be the same now, as evidenced (as if we need more evidence) by the inclusion of this sentence in the little book:

“Putin khuilo” — “Putin is a dickhead.”

I think this might be a good place to stop.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
2/15/25