The American teachers at my language school had a phrase to describe dating Russian men.It was “No Means Yes, and Yes Means Anal.” Not surprisingly, the attitude toward rape in Russia is still depressingly medieval. That’s life,” my mother would say with a shrug as she heard about a recent rape victim on the news.You could be sitting in a banya, or at a café, and a man walks by, puts a fruit salad on your table, and gruffly says, “Enjoy.” If you eat the salad, it is a sign that you would like him to come talk to you.If you don’t eat it the salad, it doesn’t matter, because you have been chosen and he will still come talk to you since your compliance in the whole matter is largely unnecessary.In big cities, it’s not uncommon for a man to just run up to you in the street and say, “ century nobleman.While all men like a challenge, the average American man tends to stop pursuit once you indicate that you are repulsed by his presence.Petersburg after graduating from my overpriced New York liberal arts college.All of which is to say, I am dual in every way, and my plethora of multicolored passports is a worthy symbol of the cultural mish-mash of my personality. The first thing that you’ll notice when you get to Russia is that the women are astoundingly beautiful and immaculately presented.
I’ve had male suitors who kept calling for years after I stopped picking up the phone.All that could be heard in the darkness was my friends and I shouting his name, and the thuds and grunts of Anton wrestling with another guy.Only a few minutes ago, we’d been standing together drinking beer, when the other guy made the dubious and drunken decision to put his arm around me.Here was a guy protecting my honor, placing himself into bodily harm on my behalf.It was what I had dreamt of all those years when I read of dueling pistols and men of great action and few words. ” Suddenly, I wished my women’s studies professor from Sarah Lawrence were there.