Thursday, 14 May 2009
A friend made me cry today.
It is pretty pathetic, really and I should not confess to it, because things that make me cry these days (whatever caused such a change in personality: old age? hormones?) are pretty innocent and not at all depressing. By standards of normal people that is.
She sent me a Russian cartoon. Bloody Russians.
It is self-explanatory, so I will attach the link here for those interested.
I watched it. And it made me cry. A little.
It is a story of a girl who saw a scary old man catch a little fish and she tried to save it, but he took it away. Presumably, to make a nice hot uha (Russki fish soup).
I am not a vegetarian. Not only I enjoy eating fish, I also discovered a few years ago the joys of a boat fishing. That’s when I realized that I had a monstrous killer instinct deep inside me. And, on a glorious sunny day in the stunning Caribbean sea, the monster got released.
I hunted like a cavewoman, I pulled those poor little (By the way, mine were not that little- not that it was a competitive fishing, or anything…) creatures out, and then as we pulled to the beach, watched Francisco the boat owner cleaning and gutting them, making Ceviche….hmm… one of the best days out I ever had. So, apologies to my veggie friends but-no regrets, whatsoever!
I also discovered that my killer instinct is genetic when I took my mother on a (slightly less glamorous location) boat fishing trip up in North Wales. I had never anticipated how a respectable demure Azeri lady could turn into a barbaric hunter in a matter of seconds. Every time her fishing rod jerked and something got hooked on it, she shouted “Oop-paaaaa!!!!!” so loudly, I kept looking around expecting someone to appear with a straitjacket. Her pupils were dilated, hair all messed up and her hands red from the freezing mid-May Welsh wind: but she did not notice.
But today, watching this cartoon made me cry. And not just because the poor little fish got eaten by a scary old man. I just thought it was so beautiful. The falling snow…and the piano…There is just something about Russian cartoons. There is just something about Russians, really. The drama, the tragedy, the sadness, the soul… The country that produced Marina Tsvetaeva. What else is there to add?
Just make sure you don’t let your children watch this one.