I exchanged glances with my husband when the rissoles and buckwheat appeared on the table. "How boring," I thought. He doesn't even like buckwheat. My internal dialogue continued: "This is what she chose to make for dinner when she hasn't seen us in years?!" Then Babushka Sveta brought the salad out: rocket, mozzarella and tomatoes. This wasn't standard fare for my babushka; this was just for us. Mozzarella is not an everyday ingredient in Russia and she doesn't usually host dinners.
Babushka Sveta also made her mother's biscuits. They were a little dry, but edible, and came with a pineapple and a chocolate basket - both gifts from her students and colleagues at university. Babushka Sveta is in her 80s but she still holds her position at the university, gets invited to conferences in Moscow and is recognised for her inventions. She has a master's in chemistry and a PhD in psychology. She is my only living grandparent, and she has challenged my perceptions of what a grandma should be.
I grew up in Russia in the 90s, convinced that she was not a real babushka like my late Babushka Lena was: warm and welcoming with lots of food for her grandchildren and willing to give up her time for her grandkids and prioritise her family above everything else - including her ambitions.
Anna as a child (left) with grandma Sveta. Source: Anna Kharzeeva
Babushka Sveta didn't cook or bake. I remember her saying to my grandpa when he asked what was for dinner: "Am I your slave? Cook yourself!" Although, I do remember she and Grandpa bought us soft drinks every day when we'd come to stay.
She put her work and career first, always. I wanted her to praise me, to hug me, to listen to me. I wanted her to say that I was smart and capable of anything and this yearning forced me to look within myself. Why was I so convinced that there was only one way to be a babushka? What if a woman simply wasn't into cooking? What if her past was so complicated that it was difficult for her to show affection? How could I come to reduce a complex woman, who's raised a son, had an impressive career in science and education and navigated life through the Soviet Union to just two words: bad babushka?
You need to acknowledge the babushka Sveta in you.
I somehow deprived myself of feeling proud for having a babushka who has achieved so much. Crafting inventions was no small feat. To think that her husband did all the grocery shopping and cooking, and most of the cleaning. Was babushka Sveta a feminist icon? Was she actually ahead of her time?
"You need to acknowledge the babushka Sveta in you," my therapist said, and I knew she was right.
Just like her, I love what I do. I am curious and want to create something meaningful and I can only hope to have a professional drive like hers in my 80s.
Anna Kharzeeva with her grandma Sveta. Source: Anna Kharzeeva
It was my husband's idea to come to dinner that evening, and it was a good thing that we did. It was early 2020, the last month before the pandemic, and then the Russia-Ukraine war hit. I haven't seen her since. Now that I'm in Australia, we really don't know when we'll see her again.
I appreciate her now and she did care in her own way, more than I ever gave her credit for. She even made us that mozzarella salad, which seems to hold more weight than even I had known.
