Two words that can change a Belarusian's life — at least, it's worth a try

In conversations among Belarusians, in response to almost all questions, you often hear the affirmation "ну да" (nu da). People, using the Belarusian language, haven't paid attention to the most important and simple word "так" (tak - yes), but instead calque from Russian "да" (da - yes), and often add the particle "ну" (nu). In Russian, this "ну да" carries no stylistic connotation. However, for Belarusians, it has a negative connotation, as Belarusians thus seem to guide themselves towards a mode of trouble and sorrow.

For example, colleagues are discussing a concert. To the question "Did you like it?" the answer is "Ну да" (nu da). Goodness gracious, what boredom? It's always cheerful! (Note: "нуда" (nuda) means boredom in Belarusian, creating a pun with "ну да").

"A good play?!" "Ну да," (nu da) — again in response. Practically every second Belarusian coexists with that "boredom" (nu da), without even noticing it.

Once I overcame my own "boredom" (nu da), I began to help others get rid of it. People, by the way, react differently to such attempts. Some rejoice and ask to have their mistakes corrected. In such a case, the person learns and improves their language.

Sometimes people get very angry at linguistic remarks, some even take offense, saying, "I (myself) know how to do it correctly!" Or they genuinely don't understand what the catch is.

But there are also positive cases! Once, I went on a trip to Ukraine with my friend Maryana. And throughout the entire trip, she kept repeating: "ну да, ну да." Automatically, because she was used to it.

So I decided to challenge that "boredom" (nu da). I said jokingly: "Maryana, how about for every 'nu da' I charge you a symbolic fine of one hryvnia?" We continued our vacation. Everything was great: travels, cafes, and beer. However, "ну да" was jumping around like a squirrel on a tree (i.e., it was very frequent). When the sum accrued became significant, Maryana began to pay more careful attention to her speech.

Towards the end of our stay in Ukraine, "ну да" appeared less and less frequently, but the "punitive" sum turned out to be quite decent. My friend eventually asked for mercy: "You'll send me out into the world with a beggar's bag!"

Here's how Maryana herself describes her experience of fighting "nu da": "I always ask my friends to correct my mistakes, because I'm not constantly in a Belarusian-speaking environment, and at work I'm forced to keep all documentation in Russian; so my switch to Belarusian takes some time. And of course, when there's no one to speak Belarusian with, the language is forgotten. And when I'm corrected not maliciously, without taunts or reproaches, I'm glad to have such an opportunity for improvement.

But I absolutely hate it when people in public start giving me linguistic remarks, especially people who don't have perfect knowledge of our language. Then it has the opposite effect; I feel as if I'm being publicly humiliated. With 'nu da' (boredom), by the way, we parted ways. But the time spent in the experiment, I love to recall and recount to others as my life experience and an example that everything is possible (almost)."

Does it matter?

So, does such a combination of words "ну да" really affect our lives, does it carry an emotional burden, does it hypnotize us into a sad mood, into trouble and sorrow?

With this question, we turned to Hanna, a specialist in family psychology and gestalt therapy:

"Words spoken unconsciously do not magically influence life. A person does not attract boredom just because they said 'nu da'."

But language is a mirror of one's internal state. Habitual words and intonations show in what position a person lives: with interest and engagement, or more with tiredness and passive agreement.

If a person often says "ну да," "as always," "let it be" — this is usually not about the words themselves, but about an internal "I agree without participation." And when such a state becomes habitual, it already affects the quality of life, decisions, and energy levels. Therefore, it's important not to be afraid of words, but to listen to oneself: from what state am I saying this and what do I truly want?'"

People often speak automatically, without paying attention to intonation. But it is precisely the intonation — tired, ironic, indifferent — that carries the main meaning, not the sounds themselves.

Hanna advises catching oneself on habitual phrases from time to time and asking: "Is this truly my agreement or just a habit of not resisting?"

Such a short pause already returns more agency to a person in their life. When the internal position changes, the language naturally changes too.

Hanna asserts that language always follows the psyche. Therefore, the best way to change one's "language of life" is not to forbid oneself words, but to correct and restore one's interest, choice, and contact with oneself.

Everyone can listen to their body and correct an inappropriate error in speech, and fill their life with new strength. Maryana managed to eradicate the filler phrase in a week. You try it too! I'll put it this way: change your words – and you'll change your destiny.

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