On Pillows and Mayo and Burning the House Down

                Here in Russia a lot of products are different from the states. I was truly surprised by square pillows and wide rectangles of butter. In my head there was no other way for pillows to be but rectangular. Here they are definitely square. They are super comfy and I can actually say I prefer them to the pillows from home. The first time I saw the butter, wide and wrapped in tinfoil, I thought, “I wonder what the butter dishes look like.” Surprisingly enough, they are shaped  to fit the butter.

                They condiments come in squeeze  pouches instead of bottles or jars. I think it is particularly genius, you don’t have to get mayonnaise on your knuckles when trying to get the last bit out. And the mayonnaise is really delicious here. I don’t know what ingredients are different from the mayonnaise in the states, but it is richer and more delicious. Magic. Magic mayonnaise. There are a lot of different types of ketchup for sale, but they do have Heinz, which is what we buy because it is the closest to what we expect to taste when eating ketchup.  We found some Heinz barbeque sauce which is really good and tastes very authentic.

                We haven’t really found a good mustard. The first attempt at finding mustard left me with 12 ounces of ground horseradish. I just assumed it was mustard and without even tasting it used it in the dressing for a pasta salad. Did you know that vinegar can come in different percentages of dilution? Well, I did not. I bought super strong vinegar, mixed it with horseradish and raw garlic, threw in a little olive oil and served it with dinner. It was painfully horrible. Pretty darn inedible, and it was a real pity because I used about ten dollars of salami. I have learned my lesson about tasting the condiments before they go on or in anything.

                One of the best parts of my Russian kitchen is the electric kettle. It is incredibly handy to have boiling water at hand in moments. It is awesome for cooking and cleaning. I don’t know why there aren’t more of them in the states, but I imagine it has to do with being more of a coffee culture than a tea culture. Speaking of coffee, we really haven’t had any really good coffee since we got here. We brought a percolator with us, but that took forever to brew and the results were pretty icky. They do sell coffee makers here, but they don’t sell filters. So, we have been drinking instant. It could be worse. It could definitely be better, but I’m trying not to forget that it could be worse. One problem it has solved is the great coffee debate in the Voth household. I make it too strong, Dave makes it too weak. Now we can customize. Thank you, Russia!

                Our house came with a kettle, but we ended up having to buy one to replace the one that Dave set on fire while trying to burn down the house. I guess he was actually trying to make coffee, but he might as well have been trying to burn down the house. He filled up the kettle and put it on the stove and then sat down to eat breakfast. Soon, the kettle started smoking and he thought,  ”That is weird, it usually doesn’t start to steam up that fast.” There were of course flames,  then he yelled, “Meggan, come quick, there is a fire!” Well, I put the baby down in her crib and ran towards the kitchen and he yelled, “Open the front door!” He ran out and threw the kettle on the driveway. So, we had to buy a new kettle.

                

Oh, the humidity!

It seems rather perverse and obscene that it should be hot in Russia. In my mind it there was a constant snow cover on the ground and never got above 60 degrees. I was very wrong, of course, and so we have a lot of long johns, boots, thick socks and sweaters and only one pair of shorts between the three of us. The shorts we do have belong to Dave and are cammo so are of little use to the rest of us.

We had our first really hot day about a week ago and have been suffering ever since. There are no curtains or blinds in our house so I have hung sheets on the windows as a temporary measure. We were advised to buy fans early as they are considered a seasonal item and when the stores run out they don’t restock.  Luckily, we have three, but I think we would probably be better off with thirty. Ugh.

AJ doesn’t really seem to mind the heat. All I brought for her were long sleeve onsies, so I hacked the sleeves off of a couple of them and now she is crawling around like a little hillbilly redneck Russkie. Although, now that I think of it the heat might be getting to her because her new trick is to sit on her butt and spin three sixties while laughing like a maniac. She likes to sleep with a fleece blanket from home, and even though it is a billion degrees (no hyperbole at all) she can’t really get to sleep without it.

Dave and I are melting. Just melting. We are really fortunate that Dave’s work truck has AC as a lot of the other Americans do not. The heat has made it pretty difficult for us to sleep and the fact that it doesn’t get dark till eleven pm makes it harder still. I have told Dave that we need sleep masks. it would certainly help our sleep deprivation. I am all for it, but I can’t get Dave to agree. I think it would be incredibly adorable  for the two of us to have matching sleep masks. Maybe embroidered with ZZzzzs or closed eyes with long eyelashes. He is so stubborn.  

31 in Russia

                Last Saturday I went shopping with a group of American women in Bryansk to celebrate my birthday and Mother’s day. Bryansk is the equivalent of the state capitol where we live and is a city of about 500,000 people. It is three hours from our farm to the city. Dave dropped me off at one of our nearest neighbors, and then we had a driver take us into the city.

               There is a pretty new mall in Bryansk and it was like shopping heaven for me. The area where we live is pretty remote and devoid of a lot of modern conveniences. I suppose realistically it is only the luxuries that are missing. Necessities are pretty much accounted for, unless you consider a latte a necessity.  I have always loved shopping. Even if I’m not buying anything I love the order and cleanliness of a department store. I love the feeling that somebody gave a lot of thought to what I might like and took it upon themself to try and give it to me.

                The mall here has two stories and walking through the door was like a quick trip back to America. Everything was clean and orderly and available for my convenience. It was awesome. There were four of us from our region and we were waiting on the rest of our group from another region at the food court. I had McDonalds for my birthday lunch. I feel a little guilty living in a foreign country and craving the familiarity of American food, but after 11 weeks I figured I shouldn’t feel too guilty for wanting something familiar. The gals got me an ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins and sang happy birthday. It was a really nice surprise.

                For my birthday, I wanted to get some nice lotion and hand soap, I went to a store called Yves Rocher to get it. They didn’t have testers so the store clerk followed me around and opened up bottles that I pointed to for me to smell. After I picked out a few, I said “Horosho” which means good, ok, I’m done and that is all. I thought we were walking to the cash register, but we actually went to the hair care section where she handed me a bottle of conditioner. Not shampoo, but conditioner. She was obviously trying to meet my needs, “Here you are in a foreign land, and you obviously have not been able to do your hair in a long time. Let me help you. Buy this conditioner.”I bought the conditioner. I must have really looked like I needed some.

                AJ was a sport the whole day. She didn’t take a nap on the way there, so she was a little cranky when we got to the mall and then a scary lady made her cry in the women’s restroom. Her diaper did leak while she was in the carrier, so I spent a good portion of the day with a pee soaked shirt, but apparently an unexpected side effect of mommy hood is not caring too much that you are out in public soaked in pee. Happy Birthday to me, indeed.

                Dave picked me up and drove us home. There he had a cake and a card and a balloon and a present. It was a nice surprise because I had given him a pass this year for my birthday and Mother’s day. The cake was not super delicious, there seems to be a Russian law of desserts: if it looks really decadent and delicious, it isn’t. 

I hate bugs. It is a true source of embarrassment to me because it conflicts with the idea I have of myself as a competent grown up. Russia is resplendent with all manner of creepy crawlies.  When we first  moved into our house I had to clean up a lot of fly carcasses and there were still quite a few live ones flying around. I thought it was weird that there were so many flies around with snow on the ground. Then I started noticing more and more bugs in the house. I was discussing it with one of the other American families, and it turns out they come in through the walls. Yes, the walls.

                This isn’t a horror movie, this is my house. I realize it probably isn’t a big deal, but in my mind’s eye I see flies elbowing there way between the logs , “Yep, almost there, gotta go gross Meggan out.”

                The truly unsettling thing is when I've told other people here about it they seem very nonchalant. Apparently I am the only one completely and totally freaked out by bugs with the ability to make it through walls. Yuck.

                So, as embarrassing as my squeamishness is, to a large extent I am able to hide it. Last week AJ and I were hanging out with another American and her daughter waiting for Dave to get out of a meeting. She had just described to me the bugs in Missouri, completely convincing me that I will never live in Missouri, and Dave came in. I saw something on his back moving around a little. It was a tick. I then proceeded to freak out a little and try and get it off his back with a paper towel. I got it off but couldn’t crush it, and I was doing a little icky dance to accompany my panic.  I am a total weenie.

                A couple days later AJ and I were driving around with Dave checking cows, and Dave saw a calf in a pond. He had to wade in there up to his knees to go get him, and when he finally got him out we noticed he was bleeding on his leg. I said, “I bet it was probably a leech.” We looked around and there on the ground was an undulating blood sucking fiend. It was slimy and slick and gross beyond belief.  Well, of course this presented an excellent opportunity for me to tease Dave that there was probably a legion of leeches inside his boots. He had been in the water for all of 2 minutes after all. They work quick.

                Dave feels about leeches the way I feel about ticks. It was a fun 30 minutes before he got a chance to take his boots off. After his boots and socks were off he walked past me in the kitchen and I looked down at his feet and shrieked. There was nothing there, but he jumped up about a foot and a half. It wasn't the nicest thing I've ever done, but it was funny.  Thankfully, he hasn't gotten back at me by neglecting his spider crushing duties.