In the past few weeks I’ve had the opportunity to get to know some Russians. I mean folks who were born and raised here and aren’t part of the ex-pat community. The customs and traditions I have heard or read about I was able to witness in real life.
Two weeks ago we attended a birthday party with Russian females and American males.
Through some translation and grace, we were able to communicate and learn a bit about each other. Since it is lent season, it is said that Russians go without meat, butter, and alcohol. Like American holidays, I figured this was ‘fudged’ over. Not so with some in this crowd. While we enjoyed Beef Stroganoff and Chicken Kiev, they nicely sat with plates of potatoes and greens covered in nothing else but dill.
Dill is in everything here. I haven’t done my research enough to know if it is in great abundance or if it has some medicinal advantage, but it’s in all forms of food; cheese, bread, meat, salad, vegetables, and soups. I like the flavor of dill but it definitely gets old. At the table we had an abundance of dill.
This past weekend, a Russian acquaintance to whom I had kindly remarked “let me know if you need anything” took me up on my offer. Her American friend was ill and she asked if I would go to the Russian pharmacy to get some drugs. This was a weird situation because
1) I have never set foot in Russian pharmacy
2) was this a good idea to get drugs for a Russian?
3) while asking, she made fun of her friend for having only Vitamin C and Echinacea on hand (of course common American vitamins which I have as well).
She laboriously spelled the names of the antibiotics and then pronounced them. I inadequately repeated and she kept affirming my efforts. At one point, she pronounced a word and said, “This is hard even for Russians to pronounce.” Good luck to me right? Then she proceeded to explain that it’s easy, like a Latin word. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that American kids aren’t instructed in Latin in grade school.
Anyway, my husband solved the problem by offering her a ride to the pharmacy. So today I made good old chicken and rice soup (hold the dill) and boxed brownies. I wonder if the American equivalency of dill is salt? Or maybe gravy? Hmmmm. Food for thought.
I've had my mother-in-law ask me to bring her dill on the plane when we've come to visit because she couldn't find any in Phoenix. You make me smile every time I read your blog. I understand my in-laws a little bit more and know that is their culture that they have held onto.
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