Much has been written about the relationship between a man and a woman - this topic holds the lead among the exciting life aspects of all times and peoples. Recently I read an article on the Internet that our girls are better than American ones. This article (like other similar ones) was created by a woman with a Slavic name and surname, it was about comparing the fair sex, born and raised on different continents, let's say, in “family life”. Without disputing the message of the authors of such materials, I would like to state my vision of the very initial stage of interaction between “M” and “F” - dating. It all begins with him, and the fate of a whole generation may depend on how the stars influence a woman's second decision - to give or not give a phone number to a man ...
On the last Saturday of May, I returned from Manhattan. Going down to the right Subway platform, amid the usual dirty surroundings with an African American playing on the African balalaika with a hat outstretched, I could not help but pay attention to the blonde with a sports figure, in sportswear and with a sports bag who was studying something in the phone.
In the first fractions of a second, when you look at a woman, you define her external attractiveness. In the second fractions of that very second, if her appearance fits into your criteria of attractiveness, you determine your chances ... Immediately I will make a reservation that during several months of my stay in the States I have repeatedly come to the conclusion that all the previously acquired skills of such a “determination” of chances can be omitted by deep bottom. But only in the States and only if we are talking about American women. If in those cases when the first impression can be roughly described by the word “Ah!”, You start to blunt - ask how you get to ... (name the place where you are going, even if you successfully got there a hundred times without outside help).
She looked up from her smartphone, not understanding what I needed, and said what is usually said in similar situations in America: “Sorry?”. “Exactly, American,” I thought, “this combination of eyes, voice, quick reaction, facial features and his facial expressions cannot belong to a girl of any other nation!” Already more confidently and measuredly, I began to explain that, they say, I got lost, I had to get there and there, and whether I was going to sit on that train, only the map of the New York subway knows, and I really hope that and she too ...
It immediately became clear that the girl has been moving for a long time in the subway and is orientated perfectly. She explained on which train to sit now, where and to which transfer later and where to go. She immediately opened a map in her smartphone and began to show me how to get to my destination. Then I suddenly saw the lights of the approaching track not with the letter that I needed, and with regret suggested that this was her track. Fortunately, she waited for Trayn with the same letter as me.
“Are you a sportgirl?” I asked, not knowing if this is what athletes are called in America. In a couple of minutes I found out in which fitness club and which fitness direction she works as a trainer, what salaries, working conditions and prospects for trainers of fitness clubs in New York, who she worked for and who she studied for.
Our train arrived, we entered together. The first thing she did was look at the electronic route and once again explained to me, already pointing to it, how to get to the final point. Then she began asking who I am and where I am from, what I do and where I live, where I studied and whether I am fond of sports, what languages I speak. She told how individual and group classes are conducted with them, I told her what training in Ukrainian fitness clubs is like.
When the distance to the station at which I had to get off was shortened to one stop, I said not in the subject of our dialogue: “And I had a holiday the day before yesterday.” From her expression on her face, I realized that I needed to immediately explain what it was about, and continued: “Because for the first time in my life, my article was published on the largest Russian-language media resource in America“ Forum… ”. "Oooh, really ?!" - she interrupted me with a sparkle in her eyes and I added: "Yeah .. About Speed-dating". The surprise and the growing interest in her eyes inspired me even more, and I continued: “I can send a link if you are interested in reading it.” “Of course!” She answered without hesitation, and I took out my phone.
On the subject: How I went on quick dates in New York
Then I remembered that, carried away by the rich dialogue, I forgot to ask her name. The noise from the movement of the train and the crowd in the carriage transformed the name she uttered and I heard “Katya”. “Is it really Katya? She doesn't speak Russian - that would have been found out. Maybe a daughter of immigrants from the Union, born in America? ”- I thought. It turned out not. She, without ceremony, took my phone and filled in the necessary fields herself, in the name field, writing: "Katie". Then I thought, maybe because of my lame English, she did not understand that the article was in Russian, and wanted to invite her to throw off the translation in English. Before I could finish it, she interrupted: “No problem! I use google translate ”.
Train drove up to the station I needed, she once again reminded me where to change and where to get off, wished a good day, I kindly said goodbye, and already in my back I heard: “Take care!”. I'm not used to this phrase yet. Probably, if at that moment the doctor made me a cardiogram, the wavy line would go beyond the usual fluctuations.
And on Sunday I was driving in the train towards the “Russian area” (as the local Americans say). A girl with headphones sat next to her, moving her finger across the smartphone screen. For several months of living in New York with almost 100% hit, I learned at first glance to distinguish those who immigrated to the States from post-Soviet countries from everyone else. Alas, some Russian-speaking immigrants are so contemptuous of the same immigrants that, in order to avoid meeting them, they pretend that they do not understand their native language. So it was in this case, but I nevertheless decided to push through the veil of cynicism, and she had no choice but to answer me in Russian that she does not know why our train has been standing in one place for so long.
The “fun” of the local metro is a separate topic. I am not used to this metro. There is no metro in my hometown, but when I used it in other cities, when moving from the start to the end point, the train usually went quickly and continuously, stopping only at stations along a regulated route. In the practice of my travels around New York, this did not happen often. The downtime here gives rise to a desire to either use a different mode of transport or walk altogether, and yet they gradually reduce fears that the train has stopped due to breakdown, and not for other reasons. When I pass under the suspension bridge of the New York subway, I look at the quality of the supports, changed by their age, it seems to me that one day they will not stand a 10-car train and all this will collapse on someone's head. And when the train stops in the middle of the stations, every time I admit the thought that some rusty part has fallen off along the way and now we will have to evacuate ourselves on foot, kicking off the “Metro” rats along the way, feeling at home. Or, as a last resort, after a certain number of hours a tractor will arrive and tow us to the nearest station. Therefore, the announcement is important for me, which in such cases sounds from the car loudspeakers. Alas, although in less than six months I learned to understand what a supermarket cashier can say in a purely American dialect, what is announced in the train (if this is not a standard announcement of the next stop), taking into account the sound quality, it is still difficult for me to understand for sure.
It’s probably already the tenth minute of our unplanned stop. The announcement sounded again, the girl pulled the earpiece out of one ear, and I asked her: “What did he say?”. Hearing my question, she hurried to plug her ear. After another couple of minutes, I glanced at the monitor of her smartphone and saw the correspondence in Ukrainian. “Countrywoman,” I thought with joy and regret at the same time. Then there was another situation when she had to pull out the earpiece, and I asked: "Are you from Ukraine?" She shook her head, and just as hastened to plug her ear with primitive, as for me, and monotonous music playing from her headphones.
Train started, she got out through the bus stop and I felt even better from her absence next to me. I thought for a couple more minutes that if our dialogue took place, I could tell her interesting stories that plunged me into a culture shock (as they say here) during my first time in the USA ... Perhaps I would tell her about that I know interesting things about the Ukrainian presidential elections, and if she is such a “dunuchka” in life, then maybe she doesn’t know what “Speed-dating” is and where it is located, but oh, how useful it was for her to go and stir up at such an event. Or maybe I would recommend her inexpensive or free and high quality English courses in Brooklyn. But she will never hear all this from my lips. Like many others like her, they will not get to know those guys or men who might be of interest to them, could bring a tangible, useful and warm ray of light into the dark kingdom of their, as a rule, rather gray life.
On the subject: What surprised me about English courses in New York?
Perhaps this is due to the fact that characteristic stereotypes have developed back in their homeland: someone basically does not get to know each other in “street” situations, limiting his social circle only to colleagues at work; someone does not get to know those who travel by public transport, and someone - with those who do not shake the keys from the “Porsche Cayenne” in front of their noses; there are those who are simply intimidated from childhood by instructions that one should not communicate with unfamiliar uncles on the street; someone is looking for the whole life of an oligarch (at the same time, they may not understand what this word means) with the appearance of Brad Pitt, or an ideal created by limitless imagination; or having spent their childhood in a simple Ukrainian family, with parents living on a state salary, someone will forever stop smiling ... There can be many options.
Of course, to whom, how and with whom to talk is the will of everyone. But, to my deep regret, the difference in friendliness is so great that I cannot imagine how many decades must pass (with the best coincidence of circumstances in other aspects of life) for Ukrainian women to start communicating in the same cordial, friendly and carefree, relaxed and sexy way. but, at the same time, it did not go, with such interest, enthusiasm and respect for the interlocutor, so energetically and openly, so simple and at the same time intriguing, with such a look that you want to meet endlessly, so incomparable and individual, and as beautiful as American women do.
Someone will say: one person is not judged by one person. Of course, as they say, I'm not a dollar to please everyone. One can argue that one was in a good mood, and the other was in a bad mood. And someone will say that the first may have been free (or not polygamous in a feminine way), and the second, being in idyll, does not need any other communication. It is not for nothing that I described in detail two different dialogues that took place at about the same time and in the same place with girls of about the same age and approximately the same degree of external attractiveness. This is a suitable example of how friendly 90% of American women meet and communicate, and how “friendly” at least three-quarters of Russian-speaking Slavs meet and communicate. Of course there are exceptions, but fewer. By the way, Belarusians are more simple and friendly.
And I also had a question from the sphere of mutual care: who is more likely to “give a glass of water in old age” - an American who provided comprehensive assistance in a fake request, or a “compatriot” who responded so much in a situation where I really needed help?
As a matter of fact, communication at the stage of acquaintance is, albeit not always guaranteed, but an indicative example of how a girl can communicate with the further development of relations. Therefore, I do not know to whom “our” girls seem better than American ones. So far, if we talk about the initial stage of interaction between a man and a woman, the score is confident: 1-0 in favor of the American women.
“Ukrainians do not know how to represent themselves with dignity abroad,” - we came to this conclusion with one of my acquaintances, having experience of staying abroad. I heard something similar from friends and bloggers who have visited many countries. The story of one blogger stuck in my memory: he watched how in one of the countries of Southeast Asia, Ukrainians looked away in crowded places (for example, in supermarkets), noticing their fellow countrymen from afar. Being in the countries of the Caucasus or Arab region, as a mestizo, I had to deal with an unceremoniously confident address: "Al-salamu alaikum". I well remember the sincere friendliness that these people radiated, taking me for “their own”. "Wa-aleikum as-salam", - I usually answered, adding, "... but I am Ukrainian ...". At the same time, I do not remember any cases when Ukrainians radiated such cordiality when they met with fellow countrymen abroad.
For several years I watched how Ukrainians, having received at least basic school education (according to which the African continent is presented as something far from modern life), arriving in “God-forsaken Africa”, interacted in such a way that I had to listen to the local residents what it means to be "brother for brother". Natives of equatorial Africa told me how they hold on “brother for brother” in all situations, and how Ukrainians, educated, erudite, with great potential and a sufficiently high level of intelligence, behave quite like not “brother for brother”, also almost always.
I was born and raised in Ukraine and I understand that everyone, based on their previous life experience, prevailing beliefs, ambitions, grievances, and so on, draws their own conclusions. But I would very much like the reader and at least some part of “our” girls to draw such conclusions, after which, in a hundred years or so, there will be an author of the largest Russian-speaking mass media in America, who will write a similar article that Ukrainians are the most the friendliest and most affable people in the world. That in relation to women, the score will always be confident: 1-0 in favor of Ukrainian women, no matter what nation they are compared with. And then, having thrown a fleeting glance at this mortal world from the “other” world, I will understand that I wrote this article for a reason.
If you can't stand to speak on this topic - you can do it using the link to my Facebook.