Trying to talk

The other day I was reflecting on how my Russian vocabulary is about as advanced as Rawly's English.  A year and a half in and we can both say about twenty words.  I like like that we have so many similarities--let's just hope that his language skills continue to grow exponentially, as I know that mine won't.  Now many of our colleagues who came at the same time have been a little more diligent in their studies...but, no reason to tear myself down by comparing.
Though my language is lacking, communication sure makes perspective a lot different.   Lately, I've been fortunate to see the "sweeter" side of a few Ukrainians.  My favorites have been with the lady who weighs the fruit at Silpo (a local supermarket), we exchanged a formal greeting, then I asked her how she was and she looked up, startled, and stammered..."Normalnya" and then very quietly "Spaciba (thank you)."  I almost cried with joy--ok, so I'm a tad bit on the emotional side anyway. 
Friday my cleaning lady had the longest conversation with me.  She speaks a little English, so we usually go through the motions of me attempting to understand and then me asking, "Como se dice____?" to the Spanish teacher who's room is connected to mine and she usually comes and translates a bit for us.  But this time I just listened and tried to decipher what I could.  What I got was that Ukrainians also have a phrase for TGIF and that Friday is similar to the number five in Russian.
But for every conversation where I don't know what's going on and I just smile and nod my head--there are the more interpretable ones like with Galeena.  I've written about her before, she's a Russian teacher and the language department's matriarch who reminds me a bit of my grandmother and is full of cultural superstitions.  Well a few weeks ago I held (not just understood) a complete three minute conversation where she asked how the baby was (as she rubbed my belly) and started talking in Russian baby talk, then went on to ask if I needed a key to my classroom, to which I replied yes please.
Grandmotherly reminders must be everywhere.  In our new(er) apartment building we now have "Babushkas" (technically grandmother, but applied to all older women.) Well, the friendliest of the four was pretty excited when I upped the game and asked her how she was doing.  (This phrase really seems to be getting me places!) She started rattling on and asked me if I understood Ukrainian, to which I replied, "No, only a little Russian (chu choot Ruski)."  She recently had her hair cut (she was bashful when I said that it looked nice) and now looks similar to Grammy J in Idaho.  She loves seeing Rawly and always talks a mile a minute to him.
I sure like this speaking business, I wish I had time to learn chu choot more!