Today my family and I went to market. With several Spartan Green canvas bags in hand, four small children, a stroller, and virtually no Russian language skills, we climbed aboard the bus. Some of my preconceived notions about Russia were true. Old women still wear skirts, knee-length boots, scarves on their heads, and thick pantyhose that slump at the ankles. Younger women have bad hair dye jobs and put sparkles on nearly all of their clothing, even if their coats look like something from the 1980s that we would make fun of at goodwill.
As we walked through the town, stopping at several different stores where prices or selection were better than the last, people ogled at our parade of brightly colored coats and small people. In this big city today, I saw only one pregnant woman. Apparently, they go into hiding until their kids are four. I have yet to see a family with more than two children. Of course, where we live, American families have more, but Russian families can only afford one or two. Seeing four kids with the same parents is very odd.
I decided that although I had no intentions of going on a diet while here, the best diet plan in the world would be-----move to Russia. Here’s why. When I got on the bus, I had coat, hat and mittens on to protect me from the brisk 32 degrees outside. On the bus it was about 100 degrees and so I immediately began sweating inside my coat. Back outside to walk the block and then inside again to a store. This pattern went on and on so I was both exercising and sweating. Also, my husband and I had to carry whatever groceries we purchased so I thought twice about snacks and stuff that taste good, but are heavy and expensive.
Three hours later, we took the bus home after spending about 6,000r. My favorite item of the day was the alarm clock that my hubby bought. He’s been using some prehistoric wind up thing that ticks in the night and sounds like a fire alarm in the morning. He also bought a watch battery so he won’t miss the bus anymore and hold up at dinner. These things were priceless.
We got home, ate a big lunch and totaled our receipts. We were overcharged 500r (about $15) for who-knows-why at one store. Maybe it was our accents? Anyway, the Nutella I snuck into the cart was carefully put in a high cupboard for my own secret enjoyment. I have no idea how much I actually paid for that, but I’m sure it was worth it.
Sounds like quite the adventure! But it sounds like you did pretty well. A friend of mine has been living in Germany for the last year and a half and when she first ventured to the store it was a bit hard on her. She had no idea what she was reading so had to go by the pictures on the boxes. Needless to say she ended up with a few wrong items once she got home.
ReplyDeleteGood luck - I'm jealous. I may have ventured out of Sparta but only got as far as Detroit!