"Yah Nee Po Nee My O"

On the flight from Moscow to Krasnoyarsk, I more or less slept, but not before witnessing this hysterical event involving my husband and the Russian sitting next to him. It was so funny I was making notes as their "conversation" went on. This guy was obviously a friendly sort of fellow, as we hadn't encountered too many talkative Russians up to this point. As soon as he sits down, he starts talking to Doug in Russian.
Doug: "Yah nee po nee my o" (I don't understand.)

Doug didn't add "Pa ruski" after it, so I think the guy thought Doug didn't hear him and repeated everything again to Doug in Russian.

Doug: Huh? He then leans towards me and says, "Hey, can you help me out?"

I just laugh. I mean, this guy is way more advanced than I, and most of my Russian phrases center around babies and orphanages anyway. I whisper back to Doug, "Makes you wish you had studied those Pimsleur tapes a little bit more doesn't it?"

This guy is still talking Russian to Doug like he understands what he is saying. They finally both figure out they have a serious language barrier going on, and they start with name introductions.

Doug (beating himself on the chest): "Yo Doug." (I lean over and whisper, "I think it's suppose to be Yah Doug.")

Doug thinks the guy has told him that he is from Minnesota, but I don't think so. Call me crazy... I then decide to pull out my Say It Right in Russian book to see if I can't help with the communication. They are reducing themselves to hand gestures and "Bang-Bang" by now. Doug finds a picture of a deer in the book he's been reading and shoots it with his finger. Doug thinks they are talking about hunting, but I'm not fully convinced whether the Russian guy is or not. I'm trying to find the Russian word for teacher/educator for Doug, but this little book doesn't have that. This Russian guy gestures to take a look at my book. I know this isn't going to work because it's in English, but I hand it to him anyway. He flips through the pages. I think I hear him say, "Nee ho ro sho" (No good), and then he motions to throw my book out the plane window! Doug laughs! For those of you who don't know my husband, he has a very very very loud laugh, and on this quiet Russian filled plane, every time he laughed (which was quite a bit on this flight), 100+ people turned around and stared every time.

They move on to bear hunting. Doug is looking through my book looking for the word bear, but it's not that kind of book. It's not there. Doug looks at his new friend and says, "Got a match?" This guys whips out his lighter. I didn't know you were still allowed to have those things on planes anymore... I get my book back.

The flight attendants are now passing out papers. Doug picks out the Moscow Times...amazingly, it's in English.

Doug says to this guy: "Hey, it's in English!"
Russian Guy: "That's good!"

My hubby has a buddy!When I wake up from my nap, the Russian guy is sleeping. Doug tells me he has to go to work when we land in Krasnoyarsk and needs at least 2 hours of sleep. I have no idea how he got ahold of that information. He also told me that this guy kills grizzly bears. I'm not too sure about the accuracy of that information either as no one we talked to in Krasnoyarsk was aware of a grizzly population.

By the way, that same book that both of them were so eager to dispose of on the plane enabled us to ask for our check at the restaurants as well as order mustard--it's a survival guide--not a dictionary--and served the purpose for which I bought it well. On a side note about the mustard in Russia--it is NOT French's yellow mustard. It is some sort of mega super hot make your eyes water brownish mustard. It only took once and we never ordered it again!