How Russians (don't) Answer Questions

Today we went to church. I mean, what else do you do in Russia? Whenever someone rolls his or her eyes and asks me whether we go anywhere else in Russia, I just shrug my shoulders. Name me one serious historical event in Russian history that is not punctuated with a splendid church! The Revolution, perhaps. But wait, in its aftermath, how many churches are being built to commemorate places of executions? or in honor of the New Martyrs? How many labor camps were located in ancient monasteries? Russia so often etches her history into church walls and icons and bells...or whispers through muffled hands in their absence.


Anyway, today, we set out towards Зачатьевский Монастырь (Monastery of the Conception).On the way, we asked at least four people where the monastery was, but no one knew. One lady, nonplussed by the fact that we ourselves were lost, ricocheted our question to "how do I get to the Church of Christ the Savior?"

When we finally found the monastery, the overcast sky just added to the brooding peaceful mood and the cupolas still gave off a grey glimmer as we walked from church to church, guessing at which one was the oldest. The convent is believed to have been originally founded by Alexis, Metropolitan of Moscow in 1360. During the Soviet period, the convent buildings were pulled down and converted into a prison for juvenile delinquents, then rebuilt into a school. Only one of the original buildings survived. Services resumed in 1991. 

We stopped by in the tiny monastery bakery-cafe to get pirozhki (buns with various fillings) As we paid, Katya decided to inquire about the restrooms. The sweet smiling lady said, "I know where they are, but you know people come here to eat, not to ask about bathrooms." We nodded obediently, embarrassed and ready to leave. "Oi, the sister just left, she could have told you. Where is she?" She twisted around, and finally reluctantly told us "Fine, keep right." "Thank you, thank you!" we answered, deeply aware of her sacrifice. "God Bless you" was the forgiving answer. A maze led to the bathrooms, hunched in a faraway corner. 

[*Bathrooms seem to be a touchy question in Russia. In answer to “could you direct me to the restrooms,” you will often get the answer that "this is not part of my job." Bathrooms are almost always built separately from shower rooms and even the word, despite how ubiquitous it is, somehow still sounds klutzy in use. In a cafe we went to, instead of "restroom," the facility was titled "Mechtatel'naya" or Dreamy. The fancy large key lies in a small basket near the door, and you have to turn the key twice in order to enter. Two doors lead to the bathroom, even though, it turns out, the locks don’t all work] 

We had planned to stay for the service, but the biggest church heard only the shy shuffle of tourists and pilgrims. We ran to the only nun in sight, and asked whether the service had been cancelled. She simply said "Follow me" and started limping towards a smaller, humbler church. "How many nuns are there in the monastery?" I asked, "Not many, not few" she answered.

What does that mean? Raced through my head as I walked up the stairway...Does she not want to tell me? Does she not know? Or does it mean that it doesn't actually matter, since it's not about quantity? that facts don't really matter? Is she afraid that I will be counting and estimating instead of praying? Why?

It's that old, familiar paradox, this frustrating, this fascinating, ambiguity that seeps even into the linguistic fabric of Russian, in which you can answer "Yes-no-probably" to answer a simple yes or no question.