That's "X" as in Kh, the 23rd letter of the Cyrillic alphabet, of course. And if you've spent much time in Russian company, then you probably know what the two letters are that follow, all adding up to a very improper word indeed.
But there's no need to write the entire epithet on the beleaguered car hood, although, look around -- plenty of people do. In most cases, just that first letter, that tiny, devilish suggestion of sin, is enough to really delight certain members of society.
Don't be alarmed. Drawing an X in the snow is far from the cutting edge of delinquent behavior in Russia. Just as the expression "f-word" in English sounds fairly benign, vague references to the letter Kh won't ever get anyone into hot water. It's even been accepted by that semi-discriminating medium, television, as in the commercial when spiky-haired little Sidorov, an obvious troublemaker, is asked by his teacher to come up with a word that begins with the letter. The entire class gasps, fearing the worst, but Sidorov pulls through, coming up with Khershi -- Herschi Cola.
This column has already explored the fascinating breadth and lyricism of the great swearing tradition in Russia. But the letter X stands out as a true cultural artifact of its own. Not only does it stand for one of the most popular curses of our time -- a base root that can be diversified into any number of colorful hybrids connoting a range of emotion -- but even in letter form it is omnipresent. You will see it everywhere: car hoods, yes, and also elevators, schoolbooks, bathrooms and stairwells. Men -- not necessarily young men, not necessarily men you'd want to spend any amount of time with -- will dig it out in the sand during their summer vacations and have their picture taken next to it. I've seen it happen.
What could possibly be so amusing about the letter X? Graphically speaking, it's a bold, attractive statement, there's no doubt about it. And a quick feminist reading might conclude that the letter, and the word, are just a natural extension, shall we say, of the patriarchy's indefatigable fascination with its own physical endowments. You don't see too many women playfully scribbling it onto mailboxes, and it can't be just because they're more well-mannered. The real point, though, is: When was the last time you got a Russian to laugh with you, not at you? The letter X could be the key.
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