The Illiterati
When I lived in Russia, and before I started school, I had an illiterate nanny who took care of me while my parents worked.
One day she arranged to have me baptized behind my Jewish father's back, because she did not want to be taking care of a child possibly possessed by Satan. I don't remember that, of course, but all things considered, I am grateful. Mostly because she opted for baptism and not exorcism which seems, to me, at least, to be a bit more to the point. I didn't frown on illiteracy back then, my own great-grandmother, Pauline, was also illiterate. Baba Polya, as I, and everyone else called her, was approximately a million feet tall and stocky. I was mildly afraid with her and semi-dreaded the overnights that I had to spend with her, mostly because my papa's parenting technique included telling me, as he dropped me off, that if I did not listen to Baba Polya, she would die in the night. Somehow my father knew that sleeping next to a corpse topped my pediatric list of things that I wanted to avoid.
So one evening, Baba Polya asked me why I was looking so petrified.
"I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE!" I blurted out, even though I'm pretty sure that papa warned me that telling Baba Polya that I was afraid that she would die would also lead to her instant death.
She started to laugh. "I have no plans to die, why are you afraid of that?"
"Papa told me that you'd die if I didn't listen to you," I told her and I watched her expression changed.
"I'm going to die when I am ready, and I am not ready yet." She reassured me. And then, when her granddaughter, my mother, came to retrieve me the next morning, I overheard Baba Polya telling her, "tell that idiot husband of yours to stop traumatizing Marinka. What a precious angel she is."
Because despite being illiterate, Baba Polya was an excellent judge of character.
One day she arranged to have me baptized behind my Jewish father's back, because she did not want to be taking care of a child possibly possessed by Satan. I don't remember that, of course, but all things considered, I am grateful. Mostly because she opted for baptism and not exorcism which seems, to me, at least, to be a bit more to the point. I didn't frown on illiteracy back then, my own great-grandmother, Pauline, was also illiterate. Baba Polya, as I, and everyone else called her, was approximately a million feet tall and stocky. I was mildly afraid with her and semi-dreaded the overnights that I had to spend with her, mostly because my papa's parenting technique included telling me, as he dropped me off, that if I did not listen to Baba Polya, she would die in the night. Somehow my father knew that sleeping next to a corpse topped my pediatric list of things that I wanted to avoid.
So one evening, Baba Polya asked me why I was looking so petrified.
"I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE!" I blurted out, even though I'm pretty sure that papa warned me that telling Baba Polya that I was afraid that she would die would also lead to her instant death.
She started to laugh. "I have no plans to die, why are you afraid of that?"
"Papa told me that you'd die if I didn't listen to you," I told her and I watched her expression changed.
"I'm going to die when I am ready, and I am not ready yet." She reassured me. And then, when her granddaughter, my mother, came to retrieve me the next morning, I overheard Baba Polya telling her, "tell that idiot husband of yours to stop traumatizing Marinka. What a precious angel she is."
Because despite being illiterate, Baba Polya was an excellent judge of character.
Labels: Fun with mama and papa, Russia
27 Comments:
Do you take requests, Marinka? I want to know about how Papa explained the whole subject of death to you and at what age.
I think it's sweet that your Great-Grandmother allayed your fears and told your father to straighten up.
The patron saint of teeth is named Pola. Pauline. Apolonia. My name is Pauline. My husband is a dentist. I was baptized.
We should move in together.
Best last line I've read in a long time, you precious angel you.
Quite right!
I'm always thinking my mother must have secretly baptised my kids by now. LOVED that story.
Can I get a chilled Vodka Martini here?
Does your husband know this story?
"Somehow my father knew that sleeping next to a corpse topped my pediatric list of things that I wanted to avoid."
Your Papa is verging on psychic...
Indeed she was Marinka....thanks for sharing that.
And where does it fall on the Adult list of things you want to avoid???
Do you check Husbandrinka's breathing during the night???
My very wise grandpa had to leave school in Belfast to work in 6th grade. Wisdom is seldom related to education, or literacy, right?
Great story.
So are you trying to convince us or yourself that you are an angel? Yeah. Good luck with that. :o)
A baptism on the sly... Oh, you crazy Russians!
I love this story. And also Baba Polya.
Oh my god I love your dad.
Awwwww! You make me miss my Baba. My two Babas were like polar opposites. One was the nicest person you would ever meet. The other was, let's say a bit more demanding and stern.
Just to let you know, that you've probably been baptised a Mormon by now also. Saved in three religeons.
how do you do it?
it's the punch line- and YES you do it every damn time.
it's a talent.
I would have to agree with her!
whenever i think of you, precious angel is immediately what comes to mind.
I still love your papa, but I kinda like your Baba Polya too.
Amen. Baba Polya's wisdom far outpaced her educational level, and after all, wisdom is better. Sheesh, what a thing for your dad to tell you!
I love your blog. It's the kind of reality check and humor change that gets me through every day.
Baba may have been illiterate but she is not stupid, sorry, was
And she was absolutely right!
Of course she was. You inherited that from her, right?
I haven't laughed out loud like that in a while. Good shit, Marinka, good shit.
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