Once upon a time in a galaxy closer to Western Europe, I was a foreign exchange student in France, living with a host family in some burb just outside Versailles. My ability to speak French was passable, but I could understand just about everything they said to me. I’ve always suspected that maybe that was the reason why I never found French people to be as rude as we in America would like to believe.

I heard the same criticism about Russians over the past several years, but for whatever reasons (perhaps the new Cold War that some people would like to pretend we’re in), it has intensified recently. Despite the talk, though, I found Russians to be helpful. I was able to ask them questions if I needed to – like why can’t I get to Lenin’s Mausoleum on the day of Medvedev’s inauguration. Not once did I sense any hostility. Again, my command of Russian was passable (although noticeably worse than my French at the time of that trip).

Maybe it’s other cultures’ way of saying we should be more open to non-Americana (or whatever the best way to phrase that would be). Or, in the case of Russia, maybe it’s just because it was too damn cold that morning to make a stink. It was funny watching the “normal” population bundled up in jackets and coats while a few brazen devochka wore their mini skirts because in the new Russia, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. Besides, it wasn’t sub-zero or anything. Just quite chilly.