The very first day, when Pudovkin showed up in our classroom, we gave him the nickname Pud. Not just because of his last name. Pud is a very big guy. His fists are especially big. They are as heavy as a pood[1]. So Pud certainly lives up to his nickname.
Pud always sits in the back row. He sits there because only in the back are there desks large enough to fit him.
He is used to everyone blaming him for something. When his name is mentioned on any occasion, he replies from the last row, “Why Pudovkin? I didn’t do anything.”
He says it so often that our teachers have a ready comeback for him. Most often they answer, “It's not good that you did not do anything. In school, you must learn!”
The person who makes fun of him the most is our math teacher. As she sees him there, dozing off in the back, she comes up to him and loudly says, “Pudy!”
Pud shudders, raises his head and looks at her, astonished. And the math teacher curtseys in front of Pud, spreads out her skirt, and says, “Hellooo!” And each time, it sounds very funny. After our math teacher makes a curtsey and says “Hellooo!” to Pud, she takes him by the collar and drags him to the blackboard.
And at the blackboard, we witness a very funny scene. She starts to ask him, “Tell us, Pudy, where are all the Bs? Where are all the Cs?” Then she takes him by the collar again, rubs his nose into the blackboard, where the formulas are written in chalk, and says, “Here are all the Bs! Here are all the Cs!” And when our math teacher rubs Pud's nose into the blackboard, we laugh so hard that tears stream down our faces.
Afterwards, our math teacher becomes tired of dragging Pud around. So she lets him go, saying, “Get out of here, you dummy!”
Once, after this happened, Pud rushed to the door. But the math teacher yelled, “Where are you going, Pudy?!” And Pud stopped, not knowing what he should do next. And the math teacher said, “Get out of here! Back to your desk!”
Usually, all these scenes end the same way. As Pud walks back to his desk, the math teacher says, “Wretched idiot! Bring your Mamsell here tomorrow.” This means that she wants Pud to have his mother come to school the next morning.
Once, after she said “Bring your Mamsell here tomorrow,” she asked him whether he understood what she said to him. And Pud said “yes”, but he shook his head “no.”
Of course, we all guessed what he meant by that. He answered “yes” because he understood what the math teacher told him. But he shook his head “no” because he was scared to even think of telling his mom about all that.
And the math teacher, of course, noticed this right away and told Pud that he spoke like a Bulgarian. It turns out that in Bulgaria, everything is backwards. When they say “no,” they nod. But when they say “yes,” they shake their heads from side to side.
Well, anyway, today Pud became very nervous as soon as he heard the news about homeroom.
But Pud was not the only one. Usually, we expected that Pud would be scolded, and everything would end at that. But this time nothing special had happened to Pud. And because nothing special had happened to Pud, everyone became nervous. Everyone tried to guess what our teacher would talk about. And I too became a little bit nervous.
And so the time came for our homeroom session. Our homeroom teacher — our Russian teacher — entered the classroom, greeted us, stood near the first row of desks, crossed his arms, moved his glasses to his nose, looked at us over the rim of his glasses, raised his pencil, and said, “Some students behave like pigs. For example, Pudovkin.”
Pud immediately replied, “Why Pudovkin? I didn't do anything.”
Of course, our homeroom teacher said, “It’s not good that you didn't do anything.”
But Pud paid no attention to that and again began to mumble that he did not do anything.
Then our homeroom teacher said, “Shhhhhhh! Don't talk so much! You’ll have my comments on your report card.”
And all of us immediately started to plead, “Please, don’t. Please, please…” Because we knew that Pud’s mom is very strict. She gives him a heavy beating for each bad comment in his report card, so that Pud comes to school covered in bruises.
And here our homeroom teacher took out a notebook and started to tell us about what we had already covered and what additional topics we would learn in his class this year.
About half an hour later, the door to our classroom was unexpectedly opened and our principal entered the room. Everyone immediately stood up. The principal said, “Hello.” Usually, our teachers say, “Hello class, you may sit down.” But the principal only said, “Hello.” Still some of us sat down. But I continued to stand, and several others continued to stand too.
Then the principal looked directly at me and asked, “What’s so funny?” And I realized that I was smiling. As soon as the principal asked “What’s so funny?” I immediately stopped smiling. But it was already too late, of course.
And here someone asked, “May we sit down?”
And our homeroom teacher said, “Sit down, sit down.”
And then everyone sat down. Here the principal said that he knew that in our class, students were not students but simply pygmies[2]. And that some of us (and he looked at me again) had even lost their human appearance because everything was always funny to them.
“Some of you,” he added still looking in my direction, “always stick their big noses into everything[3]. Such individuals should behave more modestly. Those who do not understand this can be thrown out of school in a minute.”
The principal began to explain to us how we should behave in school. “What were you talking about?” the principal asked our homeroom teacher.
“We’re just talking about what you said,” replied the homeroom teacher. “I was just telling them that they behave like pigs.”
“Pygmies,” the principal said and started towards the doors. We all rose. “Goodbye,” said the principal and went out of the classroom.
The principal left, but we still remained standing.
“May we sit down?” someone asked again.
“Sit down, sit down,” the homeroom teacher said. Then he paused for a moment and said, “I told you that you behaved like…” And he hesitated for a moment.
And I quickly added, “… like pigs?”
Here everyone laughed. Because what I said turned out to be very funny. Even though I did not expect that at all. And our homeroom teacher looked at me very unkindly and said, “You’ll have my comments on your report card.” Then he added, “Homeroom is over. Go home.”
I went home and thought about why I was always smiling and how many problems it caused me. It seems that I am not always aware that I am smiling. Even when I think I am just looking at someone, I am actually, for some reason, smiling.
Maybe my mouth and cheeks are shaped that way? Maybe they are somehow sculpted in the form of a smile?
And then I recalled what our math teacher told us about Bulgaria. I mean I recalled that when Bulgarians say “no,” they nod. And when they say “yes,” they shake their heads from side to side.
And here is what I thought. If such a thing is possible in Bulgaria, then there might exist other countries where something else is backwards. What if there is such a country where it is good when you smile and not good when you do not. And if such country exists then I would like to know about it. I just simply need to know. Then it would be much easier for me to live my life.
Чайная ложка
Я заболел вчера. Простудился. У меня даже поднялась температура. И папа посоветовал маме дать мне пару таблеток аспирина. А мама сказала, что она не собирается заниматься самолечением и вызовет врача.
2
Offensive remarks toward people other than Russians (like the one made by the principal about pygmies) are quite common in Russia.