Lawn-mowing and the Green Guys

So here in the city there are workers to whom we refer as “green guys.” The explanation for this is simple. They wear green uniforms in all four seasons. They usually work in groups and you often find them leaning up against a building having a cigarette. I caught one guy ducking from his supervisor in my front yard last week. After the manager walked away, he sat back down and had another smoke.

So anyway, these guys do all the jobs that I used to do at home. They shovel the snow in the winter, mow the lawns in the summer, and basically keep the place spruced up. But I’ve found that in our neck of the woods, so to speak, lawn-mowing isn’t a high priority. It was mid June before I called property management to get somebody out here. My explanation---I couldn’t find #4 in the grass behind our patio. Within an hour they were right out here. So I just call every other week when it seems the grass can’t be managed.

When they do get around to finally mowing, it looks like a kamikaze pilot was driving. There are never straight lines or any general direction at all. Even better is when they weed-eat and trim around the fence, but never actually mow. Or sometimes they mow a three foot path through the grass and never mow around it. Thank goodness for that path.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband had made no-bake cookies and Number #1 thought it would be a good idea to share with the workers. With her cheerful disposition, she bounded out the door with the plate in hand. She figured it was a good opportunity to practice her Russian.

Each man has his job.
One man pushes the mower.
One man empties the bag from the mower.
One man rakes the grass into a pile.
One man uses his hands to put the grass into a trash bag.
One man ties the trash bag and heaves it into the truck.
One man drives the truck.
One man works the radio in the truck.
And I can’t remember what the last man does but I am certain there were eight.

So Number #1 walks out there with our American no-bake cookies made with Jif Peanut Butter and Hershey’s Cocoa and says, “pazhalsta!” (sort of a help yourself invitation). A few of the men obliged but the man with grassy hands shook his head and tried to explain that he couldn’t possibly. Number #1 insisted, “Da! Da!” she said (yes, yes) while nodding her head. He smiled (a rarity) and took one. I haven’t had to call property management since. In fact, I think they hang around our side yard a little longer each week hoping we’ll bring out a snack.

Toi-Toi, Squatty-Potties, and other reasons to stop at Dunkin’ Donuts

It’s a necessary topic. Bathrooms. Where to find them, which ones you pay for, and how little you can spend to use a restaurant bathroom. When we first arrived, we always kept change in our pockets for the toi-toi (Hubby calls them Blue Rockets---basically a group of porta-jons in a row). Outside, a babushka charges anywhere from 15-20 rubles for one person to use it. One of the potties is actually her hut. In the winter especially, she will sit inside and smoke, read trashy magazines, or eat her lunch. Yum!

You have to take your toilet paper ahead of time and hope you’re right. The picture shows me with a few of my kids at a stop along the Moscow River. This was a special treat because she let my youngest through without paying. I was 20 rubles richer that day!

Then there are the squatty potties. Even at some of the most beautiful statues and parks, they have buildings filled with these. They also cost money. There is no concern about somebody taking too long because they are like urinals in the ground. Thus the name, squatty potty. I have three daughters. Our visits to the squatty potty are long and unpleasant. Number 3 often proclaims out loud, “It smells so terrible in here I think I’m going to throw-up!”

A few weeks ago we had some guests here. It was late at night and we were sight-seeing. We had heard about a really neat diorama in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels in Russia so we decided to walk there. After strolling past the guards in our casual get-up, we found the diorama. It was incredible! On the way out, we spotted some bathrooms. I know well enough to stop when you see one, especially if it’s free. Forget the diorama, THEY were incredible.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that Russian women pose in front of everything and apparently, fancy restrooms are no exception. I have to admit, I took a little bit of toilet paper to show my friends because it was seriously thicker than most tablecloths I’ve seen. There were warmed, individually rolled, hand towels for each patron and the fragrance was very inviting. I lingered in there a little bit longer than necessary.

And my last example: restaurants. Last night I stopped at Dunkin Donuts with a friend on a very busy street. After we waited in line behind nine people, they told us they didn’t have smoothies, iced coffees, or anything else cold despite the 80 degrees and humidity. But, since I waited in line, I definitely deserved to use the jon. On the back of the door, the very poor English translation said, “DO NOT THROUGH YOUR PAPERS INTO THE TOILET.” I forgot to mention that some potties have little baskets right next to the can so you can toss your paper. Ick.

One last warning. If you walk into a water closet and see a member of the opposite gender, don’t sweat it. Maybe you’re jet-lagged. Or maybe you’re in a fancy, recommended restaurant in Moscow where bathrooms are co-ed. And don’t forget, janitors may walk in at any time. Guys, they’re usually female. Don’t worry, they don’t mind. You do your business and they’ll do theirs.