An ode to the real muzhik


Well it’s been a while, sorry about that.
My work schedule has changed and I’m still getting into the swing of things (although given stability of Russia being what it is, I’ll probably out of the job, jerking of homeless guys in no time).
Another reason I’ve been a bit less active is that I’ve teamed up with my American friend and have been abusing my body with alcohol and women on the weekends. The result is me crawling around the flat in my pants in what would otherwise be prime blogging time.

But back to business…
This little post is actually based on my friend’s experience, but it was too good not to blog about.
For those who don’t know, a muzhik, or more importantly a ‘real’ muzhik is what Russians say when they mean ‘real man’. Why this is significant is because the one thing all foreign and Russian men have in common is that we have all been accused of not being real muzhiks at some point. Now, the criteria vary from woman to woman,but  the point is the same - You have a Russian girl for long enough and you’ll hear those magic words, cast lovingly in your face.

You often hear it when you are being character assassinated, for example, she is listing your flaws and telling you that a real muzhik doesn’t behave like this, sometimes they’ll add: “are you a real man, or what? (ты не мужик, что ли?) to which the answer is always no, even if you are a Clint Eastwood-tony soprano hybred.
While getting blasted by your girl for being a dick and not a real muzhik, they will often reference one of their friends (eg. Sergey would never do a thing like that, he’s a real muzhik!!) who just happens to be the epitome of muzhikness.

fig 1. a real muzhik (maybe)

This last point brings me to my friend, the American.
So for a long time, his girlfriend had been singing the muzhik praises of her one Russian friends. He was supposedly generous, a fiend with the ladies and a grade-A drinker who could always hold his own in any testosterone-fueled drinking session.
One night a couple of weeks ago, my friend’s girlfriend introduced them and all three went out drinking.
The night ended with the real muzhik, nay, the ultimate muzhik, pooping his pants (fully) and vomiting everywhere, taxi included.

When they got back to where they were staying, the two of them helped him puke some more and then my friend had to really step in.
His girlfriend wanted to wash the guys clothes which meant only one thing: my friend, the American muzhik, had to strip the guy naked, put him in the tub and sponge bath him like it was1999. Now, how in depth the cleaning process went is anyone’s guess, but washing naked, drunken Russians is never a great thing, especially when pooped pants are involved.

After he had been put in the recovery position so as not to choke on his own vomit and die in the night, the night was over.
When the muzhik woke up in the morning, he was as clean as a whistle (perhaps even suspiciously clean) and all his clothes were washed and dried for him. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

So next time you get given shit about being a real muzhik, just remember that sometimes, ‘real’ just isn't so ‘real’.




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