Cunning like the KGB

I'm starting private Russian classes next week, and Olga was really invested in my hunt for a teacher. She got it into her head that I was looking for an American to teach me Russian (obviously, I was not) and seemed to think I was just pulling candidates off the street.  She became even more skeptical when I told her I was meeting with an instructor named Frida.

Olga: Who is she?  I don't think she's Russian.
Me: She studied at the best university in Moscow and graduated in 1991. How could she not be Russian?
Olga: Frida?  She's Spanish.  I don't trust this.
Me: Frida's more a Mexican name, but...
Olga: MEXICAN?!

So after many disapproving head shakes, she disappeared for a few minutes, then returned in a much calmer state.

Olga: It's okay, she's Russian.
Me: I never thought she wasn't!
Olga: I did some research.  Her parents are both Russian.
Me: HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?
Olga: I looked online. They might be Jewish, but it's fine.
Me: Where did you find this?
Olga: Facebook...and some other sites.
Me: Jesus, you're like the KGB.
Olga: I am! [not to be distracted] Maybe she's Ukrainian...
Me: I'll ask her.
Olga: YOU CAN'T ASK HER THAT!
Me: Sure, it's fine!
Olga: Noooo! Jessica, you can't! To ask a Russian if they are not from here would be...a HORROR! [She said "horror" in English to really drive the point home]

When she next asked about my teacher prospects, I listed my candidates, referring to Frida as "our friend Frida." Olga nearly peed herself laughing, so even though I should probably password protect my computer, I think it was a real bonding night for us.