A couple of blocks away next to the river is a large apartment building, several stories high, that has been there for as long as I can remember. There is a street that runs between the building and the steep river bank. There is a sidewalk on the river side of the street with some narrow areas of grass between the sidewalk and the trees that grow at the top of the river bank.
There are several Russian families living there, most of them elderly. Five of the ladies can be seen walking together when the weather is nice for walking. They walk slowly so the one who uses a walker can keep up. They all wear dark colored dresses and sensible shoes. And each of them wears a brightly colored head scarf that is tied under the chin. Which is why I fondly refer to them as "The Babushkas."
These sweet little ladies try really hard to converse in English. But when they are talking to one another, it is always in Russian. I think it probably is not easy to learn another language at their age. They are so friendly that it is easy to take the time to listen and attempt to understand their broken English. Their smiles will light up a dreary day.
The Babushkas are an industrious group. I have seen them working the soil in those narrow strips of grass, turning them into little gardens. With spades and rakes, the four who are mobile get the soil ready in the spring. The one with the walker supervises. They plant all sorts of flowers next to the sidewalk - daisies, marigolds, zinnias.
Behind the flowers they plant tomatoes, peppers, beets, green beans and cabbage. I have often seen them out there tending their little gardens. They are happy to show anyone who is interested what they are growing. They once tried to teach me the Russian names for the plants, but I didn't do too well remembering them. My efforts at wrapping my tongue round the Russian words made them laugh, so it was fun, just the trying to say them.
I read an article not too long ago about another group of immigrants living not very far from here. That group had several among them convicted of terrorist activities. The families of the convicted were loudly protesting. They were shouting about how unfair they felt American justice was. Threats and demands abounded.
I think we could use more Babushkas.
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If they don't like living here in America they should go back to their homeland. Oh wait they don't have the freedoms we have here. It seems that this group of grandmas grew up working hard to make a living. now days everyone is getting too soft. Including myself.
ReplyDeleteMy great grandmother wore a babushka. She was Czech. Her English was fairly good but as she got up into her 80's if she got really excited about something, in mid-sentence she would revert back to Bohemian. She loved this country and felt blessed by being able to have immigrated here. I agree with you. I'd much rather have the Babushkas.
ReplyDeleteRob...I don't know what the Babushka's history was, but they reminded me of the wives of farmers from my grandparents era. They were a joy to be around, even when I couldn't catch everything they were saying.
ReplyDeleteBabushkas rock! (You're a bit of one yourself, you know!) - lol
ReplyDelete(A grandmotherly type, not a scarf!) :-)
ReplyDeletehobo...That's the way these little ladies were. They would talk with me in English except when one of them would get stuck for a word and then they would converse among themselves in Russian until they found the word in English. I was impressed with the way they took a small patch of earth and made it beautiful with their flowers and productive with the vegetables. My guess is that they might have had gardens in their homeland and this was one way to have something familiar to them. I would welcome Babushkas any time. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gorges. Comparing me to the Babushkas is quite a compliment. They were probably much nicer than I am. I can't imagine any of them going off on a rant like I have been known to do. :)
ReplyDeleteHad a neighbor like her while growing up - She made the best darn chicken soup (the feet included) you ever tasted!
ReplyDeleteChickenmom...I'm thinking those Babushkas had some wonderful old world recipes. Kind of like the old farmer's wives of my youth. The country school I attended held a potluck picnic on the last day of school each spring. Those farm ladies brought some of the best food I have ever had.
ReplyDeleteI like Russians. Especially the people who came from the countryside. We have some who are part time residents , during the summer and fall. They all speak pretty decent English so they are easy to converse with. My wife and I run into them at the lake, on the walking trail.
ReplyDeleteDoesn't Babuska means grandma in Russian?
Harry...We have a number of Russians living in my town. They are mostly elderly people who have been here a long time, but there are some younger ones as well. All those I have come in contact with have been friendly, especially those five ladies. Some of them are widows, but a couple of them have husbands who are just as friendly. One of the husbands could have been of Teyve from "Fiddler on the Roof."
ReplyDeleteI had to look it up and you are right. Babushka is the name of the head scarf worn by many of the older Russian ladies and it also means old woman or Grandmother.
You made a brilliant point in a brilliant way.
ReplyDeleteThanks BW...but you give me more credit than I deserve. When I wrote this piece I was thinking more about how those five little old ladies have made my neighborhood a nicer place to live. It was sort of an afterthought that I compared them to others in the city who are polar opposites.
ReplyDelete