Oy, malodinka...

So, school has started, and a whole new world of Russian people are now observing me with interest and confusion. Since my Russian is atrocious, it requires every scrap of my attention to follow what on earth is going on (at all) during my lessons.
"She's so humble," you think, smiling indulgently. "She understands the lessons." Oh no, fictitiously complimentary reader. It is not so. I still haven't figured out what some of the subjects are. I'm serious.
Fixing my eagle eye on the various teachers has led to various reactions. My history teacher, who gave a great rolling lecture on Socialism and Capitolism, reviewing the previous year's work (I understood the Russian words "sozialeezm," and "kapitolizm" with little difficulty), came and sat down on the edge of the my desk at the end of the lesson, and said, with large sympathetic eyes, "Dzulya. Shto vih poneemala?" (Julia. What did you understand?) I smiled my best smile.
"Socialism and Capitolism," I said bravely.
"Ah! Vih poneemala oorok!" she smiled, nodding. (Oh! You understood the lesson.)
"Mm...nyet. Tolko eti dva slova," I explained. (No. Only those two words.)
She looked at me, eyes wide, and put a hand gently on the top of my head. "Ribyonkah," (poor little girl) she sighed. "Malodinka," (dear little child.) I smiled brightly. That is just one of those things about being an exchange student. It's really hard to talk to people, but you can understand a good deal, so you get to listen to people (who don't know this) discussing in front of you how badly you speak Russian, and the five words you know.
In contrast to the wondering pity evoked in my history teacher, I have won a friend in (of all people) my physics teacher. It began thus.
So, I'm sitting in this physics class, watching the physics teacher like a hawk to follow every Russian word that came out of his mouth, and thinking, "Hm. He seems like a friendly, eccentric math professor." And then some of the boys in the back of the class started laughing. Now, I will be the first to admit that these kids are insanely cooperative in their antics (cell phone ring, music is listened to in class, and all under the protection of fellow classmates), but this teacher started roaring like some proverbially loud animal. Oy.
So, I was starting to not like him, but still watched extremely closely--only this time, with some grim, tired ill-will. Apparently he mistook my ill-will as irritation with the other students for interrupting such a subject as physics, because after class he very patiently, and very slowly said, "Ya hachu bcyo stoodyenti pohozha tebya." (I want all my students to be like you.) "You listen very well. You are a good student," he nodded. I translated this slowly in my head, and managed "Spaseeba." (thank you.) Now he waves excitedly at me in the hallways, pauses a moment to think, and then says, "Hello!" (in English.)
So school is a very strange experience.