How not to learn Georgian?

“You are a linguist, you will easily learn Georgian,” everyone said, “and then, how not to learn him when you live in Tbilisi?” Now I'll tell you how.

My father, the Tbilisi Assyrian, moved to Moscow in the late 1960s. He knew Gruzinsky and Russian equally well, but set out the goal of the overwhelming encouragement. The Georgian language in Moscow, of course, was rarely useful and was needed only for rare campaigns to the market, where during my childhood there were many merchants from Georgia, as well as for a rapid expression of emotions. It is clear that those expressive Georgian words that crashed into me in childhood, I do not use for considerations of decency. I was not taught less expressive: no one could know that life would turn so that I will move to Tbilisi in an adult state.

Of course, having moved, I immediately decided that I needed to learn the language of the country where I live. I naively believed that, having mastered about a dozen languages ​​to varying degrees - both Indo -European and Semitic - it would not be so difficult to add to them. At first, the matter really moved quickly: a relatively simple and elegant alphabet, and phonetic; No memorization of reading rules. I remembered the letters - and you can immediately read signs and pointers. It is also easy to write enough for the same reason: you can make a spelling error only if you do not know how the word is pronounced.

Pronunciation? Yes, some sounds are not easy to pronounce. The tongue twister with Gorlov “K” from childhood: “Frogs croak in water” - I still have difficulty reproducing. Grammar, of course, is not for the faint of heart - here you are case, and the ergative structure, and verbs that are hidden as they want, without caring about any uniformity. As a Celtologist, I was pleased with the numerals - the twin system, as in the Celtic languages, nothing complicated. But verbs ... how can you remember all this? However, I reasoned, because you can choose a certain amount of running phrases with the most consuming verbs for the first time, and then gradually replenish the vocabulary and improve the knowledge of grammar. It seemed to me a completely feasible task.

No matter how! It turned out that almost no one was ready to speak with me in Georgian. I went to language courses, and I did a good job. Then I studied with the teacher, despite the lack of time; We were talking, I read aloud Georgian folk tales. However, I should try to say a couple of phrases on the Georgian taxi driver, waiter or seller (with a terrible accent, harmoniously combined with non -Georgian physiognomy), as the interlocutor gave me a radiant smile and answered in Russian. And sometimes at all without any accent. If I nevertheless spoke in Georgian, and then suddenly got down or forgot the words, they said to me: “Oh, we have such a complex language, why are you suffering! Let's talk better in Russian, otherwise now there are so few those who speak Russian well! ” Few, you say?!

I specifically chose young sellers and sellers in the hope that they really do not know Russian. Once I bought coffee from a charming young man, a peer's peer, I even managed to start a simple conversation with him (on Georgian, of course!). I paid in cash, the guy had no change. He turned to his colleague and in the purest Russian, with a characteristic Moscow reprimand, asked:

- Sash, you will not have twenty tetri?

The matter was complicated by the fact that for living I chose a very specific area of ​​the city, where the Georgians did not live initially, and now there are not very many of them there. Cukia is a place historically populated mainly by immigrants from the Middle East: Assyrians, Armenians, Yezidis. Between themselves, the neighbors communicate mainly in Russian. I remember how my Russian guests, with emotion, observing the children playing on the street, first were surprised that they understand absolutely all replicas that reach them, and then realized: the children are completely Russian -speaking. Moreover, many of my neighbors are my peers and older, who lived in Tbilisi all their lives, do not particularly know Georgian, although they taught him at school. Not useful. My relatives are also not Georgians and, although sometimes they talk to Georgian among themselves, they have a conversation with me exclusively in Russian.

So it happened historically: Tbilisi is a multinational and multilingual city. However, and beyond, things are about the same. In a country where tourism flourishes for many years, even in remote high -mountain regions often speak Russian and English. Therefore, I go on vacation exclusively with a friend who speaks in Georgian, in order to at least with the owners and staff of hotels and guesthouses to avoid the transition to Russian. Because even from the Georgians I often heard: "Why do you even teach Georgian, if you can do the Russians?" I don’t know how it happened, but for those few years that I came to my relatives for the summer, and for three and a half years of permanent residence in Tbilisi, I have never stumbled upon a person who, out of principle or out of harmfulness, would not have spoke Russian with me at all.

As a result, my level of language proficiency after a year of study was approximately the same as that of the Georgian wolfhound Nazazi: I understand a lot, I listen carefully, but I practically do not say it.

But how are things in state institutions? Yes, about the same. My first campaign in the house of justice (the place where all civilian acts are registered) began with apologies, they say, I apologize, I am not saying in Georgian ... The answer was surprise-why? You can speak and fill out documents in Russian and in English. Now I communicate with representatives of public services in Georgian-yet it is somehow more decent. The same story in banks and other institutions.

Nevertheless, over time, I learned to pronounce everyday phrases more or less fluently, so that the sellers and taxi drivers slowly stopped moving with me to Russian. Taxi drivers, to my great relief, also ceased to offer me tours in Tbilisi and romantic evenings. But perhaps the best compliment to me was the irritation of one tired saleswoman, when I did not immediately respond to her question: therefore, the phase of tenderness that coming can say two words in the local language, safely passed!

But the lack of daily practice is affected: it happens to me in the process of talking a phrase or two in Russian, and then continue again in Georgian. This is perceived as something completely natural-many Tbilisans do this, inserting Russian words, turns into Georgian speech, and even whole sentences (especially if someone’s remarks spoken in Russian are retold).

In general, the study, and especially the use of Georgian in practice, turned out to be not so simple. And yet I do not lose hope that someday I can speak on it without hesitation even about frogs croaking in water!

Anna Muradova, Ph.D. Filol. sciences