Angelo, Amanda, and Amara: Saturday night

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The A-team tries to study Russian and loses to Monty Python.

Amara lounged in one of the armchairs in the library, legs slung over one arm, back resting on the other, Russian book open in her lap. Her brow was furrowed as she tried to read the simple conversational sentences, occasionally sounding the words out. After making it through to the end of the page, she sighed and tilted her head back, hair spilling down almost to the floor. "I do not think I am ever going to get past Chapter 2," she said to her study companion.

"You're doing fine," replied Amanda from her own sprawl on the floor, lying on her front with her booted feet raised and swinging behind her, book flat on the floor. "At least you don't sound like a bad KGB movie when you pronounce."

"I shudder at the thought of having to read Chekhov in his original language. In English he is bad enough." Amara chewed idly on her lower lip, reading through the next section. "There are too many consonants and vowels. Who really needs 11 vowels, 20 consonants, and 2 letters which do nothing?" She shook her head. "Maybe I should have tried French."

Amanda sniggered. "Try Arabic sometime. 'S all squiggles and they write from right to left. 'Sides, French is boring. Everyone learns French." She dropped her voice conspiratorially. "But I didn't say that if Angie ever asks."

"I take that back, upon further reflection. In French you have to learn how many consonants not to pronounce. I prefer to pronounce each letter, thank you very much." Amara shifted in her chair to check the time. "Angelo is running a bit late."

"Traffic", he announced, breezing through the door just in time to hear this. "Sorry."

Amanda chuckled. "You should have caught a lift back with the bus crew. Another meeting at the UN?"

"Always is", Angelo said with a grin, flopping into one of the armchairs. "So what'd I miss?"

"We discussed why not to learn French and how horrible Checkov is going to be in his original language. So not much." Amara scanned the book for a moment and then groaned in frustration. "Remembering this alphabet is impossible."

Amanda rolled over and sat up, brushing her hair out of her face and crossing her legs underneath her, Indian-style. "Do what I do - stick a copy of it on the bathroom mirror and on the back of the door to the bog. Means every time you brush your teeth, you can revise," she said with a sympathetic look. "Helps with vocab, too - a lot of language is memory work, so it's a matter of training your memory."

"Bathroom mirror, the backs of doors, write a word or two on your hand every day..." were Angelo's suggestions. "You'll get there."

"I think I'm all out of space up here," Amara said, pointing to her skull. "Although putting a copy of the alphabet on the bathroom mirror isn't a bad idea. I do draw the line at putting a copy on the ceiling above my bed like I've seen some students do with posters. I do not want to go to bed with Russian letters staring at me."

"Fuck, I'm glad Rack didn't think of that with me," Amanda snorted. "Going to bed with demonic scripts over my head? Gah." She mock-shuddered. "Any way, how about we work on pronunciation? Just the basics - what's your name, where do you live, where's your uncle's cheese-flavoured pen..."

"Cheese-flavoured pen?" Angelo asked, laughing. "Sounds like a plan."

Amara giggled and tried to ask for Amanda's uncle's cheese-flavored pen in Russian. What came out was distinctly not the question she was aiming for, but at least she pronounced 'where', 'uncle', and 'pen' correctly. "I think that's a tad more advanced than I can manage," she said with a grin.

"Wait until we hit you with translation practice," Amanda said gleefully. "You'll wind up with the Lumberjack Song. But you got half of it right, didn't she, Ange?" she turned to the grey-skinned young man, still in his suit. "Since you're the resident semi-fluent person here."

"She did", Angelo confirmed with a grin. "Most of the important words, even."

Amara paused in her humming of the Lumberjack Song to respond, "Yes, but I think I missed 'cheese', and cheese is very important." The lovely trip to the city, the good company, and maybe a lack of sleep were all contributing to her slightly silly mood. She flipped through her English-to-Russian dictionary and found 'cheese', pronouncing the word a few times to commit it to memory.

Scrawling down a sentence in her own notebook, Amanda chuckled. "Cheese is always important. At least to mice. And French people. So next time you run into a French mouse who speaks Russian, you'll be set, right?"

"Cheese is important in all cultures," Amara pointed out as she scribbled a brief note on a post-it and affixed it to an open page. "The French do not have a monopoly on cheese."

"Everywhere they have cows or goats", Angelo agreed helpfully.

"And sheep." Amara nodded solemnly before cracking up. "I am never going to learn Russian at this rate. I keep getting side-tracked."

"Ah, but you'll do really well in Food Science," Amanda said with a grin. "All right then, let's get serious here. Time enough for silly later, when we make Angelo watch 'The Life Of Brian.'"

"...isn't that the one you made me watch last month?"

"And we will make you watch it again!" Amara said with a certain amount of false sadism. She closed her book with a firm thud and stood. "Off to commandeer the rec room!"