A Proverb, Illustrated

Poland, November 1966. "Not my circus, not my monkey."

Happy Call

Suburban Chicago, January 1977. Mom does not seem to be engaged here in a work-related call. The throw pillow features Lithuanian motifs; the mother of my friend Ron made it for Mom (Ron's Mom also made the best Cepelinai I've tasted). The watercolor is by Murinas.

Here's the pillow today:

If you don't like it, then consider a Russian proverb: "In taste and colors, there are no friends." That's what I tell a friend each time I start (another) beige sweater.

Distant Reunion

Glacier National Park, Montana, July 1970. It's a forest/trees issue.

"When I was a boy, all the best meat went to Moscow. … We used to say that Lithuania had exploding pigs. After the explosion, only the ears, tail and feet were left."

A guide explains Soviet-era life to a tourist bicycling through the "Baltic backwater."

 

Mom remembers how the Soviets exported Lithuanian products—butter, pork, and geese—to Russia. In turn, trucks labeled "Food for Starving Lithuania" arrived from the Soviet Union. The trucks were filled with watermelons.

The Cat's Tail

One Lithuanian proverb I often hear is, "Kas pakels katinui uodegą, jei ne jis pats." It means, "Who'll lift the cat's tail if not the cat himself." The proverb expresses the Lithuanian contempt for boastfulness.* My family, for example, enforced the idea that vanity is shameful. When someone told me that I was a "pretty little girl," Mom discouraged me from saying, "Thank you" because that response signaled agreement with the observation. Instead, she taught me to provide a deflective answer, like, "You must need glasses."

We most often use the "cat's tail" expression when one of us gives ourselves a compliment. For example, if Mom remarks on her exquisite knitting, she'll add the expression—as a coda—to acknowledge that she shouldn't admire her own work.

Suburban Chicago, Summer 1963. Some people substitute a dog for the proverb's cat, but at our house, it's always a cat. The feline in this photo is our neighbors' Siamese.

*There's also a cultural mistrust of self-confidence; that quality is almost indistinguishable from arrogance.

"He who would catch fish must not mind getting wet."

Yesterday's post about a Russian proverb sparked a search about other expressions (there's a particular, family favorite, I want to find, but it's not appearing yet). The saying about the fish is one of the proverbs illustrated here.

There's also a drawing there depicting Pushkin's Fisherman and the Fish.

На вкус и цвет това́рищей нет*

"In taste and colors, there are no friends." 

That's one of my Mom's favorite expressions. Mom grew up in a Lithuanian-speaking household. Her Parents, Jadzė and Jake, both spoke several languages, and Mom quickly picked up the Polish and German that occasionally slipped into conversations.

When her Parents didn't want Mom to understand something, they spoke in a more difficult language—Russian. Mom's Parents also entertained each other in the evenings by reading Russian novels aloud. Mom grew frustrated with these practices. She decided to teach herself Russian. Mom secretly made a set of Cyrillic-alphabet flashcards, and she spent time in her bedroom learning to read Russian.

Mom's Russian came in handy after she got married because her Mother-in-law—my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana—was Russian. My Parents and Tatjana continued the practice of switching to Russian when they didn't want me to figure out what they were saying. I've picked up a few Russian expressions, but I did not learn the language.**

What did you teach yourself?

Near Wasaga Beach, Canada, July 1960. I take the wheel of "The Swan."

*Pronunciation: Na vkus i tsvet [tzv]arischey n[y]et.

**Tatjana often called me a "Чёрт полосатый," (chyort polosatyy) or "striped devil." The Russian language preserves the tradition of associating stripes with the devil.