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Walking around Oakland’s Lake Merritt, my friend and I passed an old man sitting in boxers, pants around his ankles, shirt on a bench. A flasher? Nursing home run-a-way?
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“No speak English.”
“Govoritsi po russki?”
Delighted, he asked where I learned Russian.
“Universitet. Nimnogo”. (A little.)
“Pochemu ty sprashivayesh’ (why are you asking): Are you ok?”
I pointed at his crumpled clothes.
He laughed, speaking unfamiliar words, ending with “veetzameende.”
Perplexed, I shrugged.
He pointed at the sun. “Vee-tza-meen-de!”
I laughed, nodding goodbye. “He’s fine,” I told my friend. “Just soaking up some Vitamin D.”
