If the mood is right, getting to know a Russian can be a whirlwind affair. One minute you're saying "nice to meet you" and the next you're sitting with a shot glass in your hand discussing Solzhenitsyn's beard, or something equally intimate and intense. It never goes this quickly back home, you think. These Russians are amazing.


A few hours later and you and your delightful new acquaintance are best friends. You can't wait to introduce him to all of your other Russian best friends. They'll all get along perfectly and you'll be the happiest person in the world. Arrangements are made, and you and your friends gather on neutral territory. Everyone is introduced. Handshakes and greetings are exchanged, and you settle back to watch the fireworks begin.


Nothing happens.


You jump back in and try to get the ball rolling. Yura here is a classics expert -- Dima, didn't you say you went to Greece last year? No dice. You make a few more vain attempts, and then you just give up and let them disperse to their various corners of the room. You remember how much you hated your parents gently nudging you toward other children on the playground, after all, so you don't push it, even though these people are all grown-ups and you really think they should have their basic social skills down pat by now.


You're confused, though. What happened? These Russians obviously turned on the charm for you. You're no doubt a wonderful person yourself, but you can't be that much better than anybody else. Why did they show such an appalling lack of manners when it came to each other?


One charismatic Russian person, who prides himself on his winning ways with everyone but those star-crossed Russians who happen to fall outside the range of his magnetic field, explained his behavior in this thoughtful way: How do I know they're not a total lunatic? Asking polite questions is apparently not the way to find out here. In the United States, however, where the lunatic factor is always a definite possibility, people know how to make polite conversation for hours and come away from it without really having made friends with anyone. Everyone knows the dance. It all centers around four or five basic questions, usually dealing with education and employment, that the asker can then break down into limitless subquestions, should he or she so desire. If not, they can just move on to the next person, confident that the right thing has been done, that the questions have been asked.


Russians will have none of this, and you've got to respect them for it, even if means the end for your little get-togethers. Suspicion of the unknown is inherent here, but so is an unwavering dedication to the people who ultimately make it through the barrier.