About Russia
blyad- a common swear word meaning something between “whore” and “fuck”
discoteca- a dance club
kopek– the Russian equivalent of a cent
Kotik -a unisex term of endearment meaning “little cat,” although when referring to an actual cat, this would be a masculine word
living beer– Unfiltered, fermented beer that contains live yeast
‘New Russian’- a term for the newly rich (often assumed to be through shady business) following the collapse of the Soviet Union. At the time, they tended to be very flashy with their money
solnishko- term of endearment meaning “sun”
2
MeetMe at the Podyezd
“Katya! Phone!”
I set down Maxim’s half-completed homework. Mama liked me to check it once in a while before he went off to school, to make sure we caught any issues before the teachers did. He was so good. They started learning English this year, and he’d already watched enough MTV to speak in full sentences. Not any phrases that would come up in polite company, but he could.
“Yes, Mama?” I peeked into the kitchen, which always smelled like green onions and potatoes. She held up the red phone receiver on the coiled cord and raised an eyebrow. I squinted, mouthing ‘who?’ but she shrugged and folded her arms. I wouldn’t be lucky enough to have her leave the room because a man was calling, and she needed to know whether to judge me a hussy or an old maid.
“Allo?” I uttered hesitantly, glancing back at her once more.
“You don’t have a phone, Katya,” the deep voice on the other end said, and my heart jumped from my chest and right off thebalcony, tumbling all the way down from the sixth floor.
“I didn’t have a phonefor you,” I said, braver once I ensured I was at home and not somewhere he could disarm me with those eyes.
“That’s a shame, Kotik. How am I supposed to hear your voice?”
“Who is that!” Mama said unabashedly. Funny, it sounded like a question, but wasn’t.
I turned away, to the wall and spoke quieter. “You’re not, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Do you like pizza?” The wind whistled through the payphone on the other end—now who was without a phone?
I bit down on the smile, only half of it making it to my face, the rest dispersing into a bright red blush. “There’s no pizza in Kurov.”
“There’s pizza in Kurov.”
“Give me the phone! Who is asking you about pizza? Pizza!” Mama demanded. I dodged the hand trying to snatch the receiver, but not the one that delivered a smack to the back of the head.
“I don’t like pizza,” I said, and was surprised to find the red cord wrapped around my finger. When did that happen?
“We can go to McDonald’s. They just opened one in Old Town. I’ll get you a Happy Meal.”
I couldn’t help the laugh. The restrained breathy noises told me he chuckled, too.
“You have to ask Mama,” I said, and glanced at her red face. But she stopped trying to grab the telephone, and didn’t press down the switch hook to disconnect the line, so I was back in her good graces.
“Give Mama the phone.”
I nearly ugly-cackled because he couldn’t be serious, but caught myself and held out the receiver to Mama. She examined it with distrust, but pushed up her sleeve as if it was going to get dirty, and put it to her ear. I hadn’t been in this situation since I still carried a school bag.
“Allo? And what are you calling about?”
