Basia and Me in the Lair of the Enemy, Part I

So as you might remember, yesterday Basia and I went to the birthday party of the old Russian lady we’d never met before. The Russian lady was brought over from Moscow to Illinois a few months ago by her son, a college professor in St. Louis. She is lonely around here because she doesn’t speak a word of English and there is no Russian-speaking community close-by. 

When I arrived at the party, Basia wasn’t there yet, and I tried to to figure out whether the family we were visiting was Putinoid. The old lady, let’s call her Anna Vasilievna, was a concert pianist and seemed highly cultured and intellectual. She even managed to say “from Ukraine” instead of “off Ukraine” (that’s as close as I can translate it), which is one of the ways we always know a normal person from a Putinoid. 

“These are all good people,” I texted to Basia. “Approach without fear.”

Right after I sent this text message, though, things grew weird.

“How long ago did you emigrate here?” one of Anna Vasilievna’s friends asked me.

“I initially emigrated to Canada. . .” I started explaining and saw people’s faces contort with shock.

“That’s where my parents, my sister, and my two aunts are,” I continued. “In Canada.”

“Oh! We are so sorry,” Anna Vasilievna said with a look of profound compassion. Everybody stared at me with extreme pity. Somebody was patting me on the back. Everybody was making “Oh, that’s so sad” noises at me.

This was the first time in my life that saying I’m from Canada made people pity me. 

“What have you heard about Canada?” I asked. “What is it?”

“We have seen it on the news!” one of the guests exclaimed. “There is an uprising! Don’t you know? The Canadian government is about to be overthrown!”

I was stunned. It’s true that I don’t follow Canadian news very closely but could I have missed something so major?”

“Who wants to overthrow the Canadian government?” This was a question I never thought I’d ever have to ask.

“THOSE people!” Anna Vasilievna said in a tragic whisper and everybody around her nodded. “The Ukrainian Diaspora! Those are scary, scary people, like the Nazis. They march in the streets! And they want to overthrow the government! In Canada! We’ve seen this on television.”

“These are weird people,” I texted to Basia. “Be careful on approach.”