I have often joked that if my life were a novel the subtitle would be, “Flip Flops Were a Bad Decision.” Wearing new flip flops in Disneyland, bad idea. Flip flops when Dave is in a hurry, bad idea. Flip flops in the barn, bad idea. Flip flops in Russia in a sketchy truck with no minutes on your phone, no water in the backpack, and no snacks for the baby, really bad idea.
We had been without the truck for about three weeks when Dave drove it home at lunch. It had been declared “fixed” and was ready to go. I had been going a little stir crazy so I decided on a last minute trip to town that afternoon. I was out of minutes on my phone so I called Dave through Skype and told him I was going to town to fill up my phone and get a couple things at the store. He said that sounded good and let me know he was going to be late again, probably wouldn’t get home until eight or nine. I thought that was perfect because that way I could fix a late dinner and take my time in town.
Normally I have a drawer in the wardrobe by the front door dedicated to getting ready to go stuff. Snacks, baby shoes, and all the goodies you need as a mommy to make things go smoothly. I was so ready to get out of the house that I just grabbed the diaper bag without even checking to see what was in it and hit the road. This was my first time going to Trubchevsk by myself, so I was a little nervous that I might not be able to find the grocery store on the first try, but no big deal, I had plenty of time.
By the time I was driving through the nearest village, Kotlokova, I knew something was a little fishy with the truck. Not being a master mechanic, I decided to keep going and let Dave know it was a little funky when I got home. I made it just outside of Golevesk and the truck totally stopped working. I wasn’t thinking very clearly because I didn’t get it all the way off the road before I came to a stop. So. There I was broke down, half on half off the road in the middle of Russia with no way to phone for help, 10 miles from home, with no water and a cranky baby and wearing flip flops. Yikes.
I checked the time, it was 5:15. Best case scenario, Dave would get home at eight that night, wonder where I am, and call. Then I could let him know I was stranded. My phone could take calls but not make them. I really was not looking forward to sitting in a hot truck for three to four hours. So I put AJ in the carrier, grabbed 300 rubles and my travel dictionary and started walking to Golevesk. The town in really tiny and doesn’t have a store, but there is a nice babushka that sells potatoes, carrots, onions and flowers in a little stand by the side of the road. I had bought carrots and a lily from her the week before and I thought maybe she could help me.
I made it to her house and saw to my amazement a pay phone that I had never seen before. Yay!! I had 70 Rubles in coins in my pocket. Problem solved. Three barking dogs started running at me and I couldn’t get any closer to the phone. The nice babushka shooed them away as I said, “Machina niet roboto,” which is essentially, “Car no work.” One of the first things you learn in Russia is, “Niet Robota,” because a lot of things don’t work. I gestured to the telephone and asked if I could use it. I asked, “Rubles?” and she replied, “Niet. Carta.” I had left all my debit cards back in the truck because I didn’t think I would need them. Oh well, back to the truck for my debit card. This time, I grabbed my whole diaper bag and wallet and walked back to the pay phone. She was waiting outside her house for me and got the dogs out of my way and let me walk up to the pay phone. I put my card in… nothing. Niet roboto.
Babushka was ready to come to my aid, she tried to wave down several cars for me so I could get a ride. Finally, a cargo truck stopped, but based on what he said, I think he was going to a different town and didn’t want to drop me at the farm. A bus passed by but it didn’t stop. Argh. An actual taxi stopped but he must not have liked the look of me because even though he did not have a passenger he wouldn’t give me a ride. She decided to try and call and get me a taxi. She went inside and got her phone, and I said, “Plejalsta, ya telephone mush.” Essentially, “Please, I telephone husband.” She happily handed me her phone and I punched in Dave’s number… niet roboto. She dialed his number… niet roboto. I tried one more time, held down the zero key to get the plus sign and dialed again, and then I heard the long thin ring of a Russian phone ringing and Dave answers the phone.
He says he will try and get somebody over to me, and that he will do his best. His best is good enough for me, so totally relieved I say to my new bestie, “Bolshoy Spasiba!!! Bolshoy Spasiba!!” I try to hand her some rubles while I say, “Big thanks, big thanks!” She won’t take the money and tells me, “Nasdarovia!” It is, “To my health.” Awesome. She tries to convince me to sit in the shade on the bench in front of her house, but I don’t know who is coming to get me and they aren’t going to be looking for me there, so I decline and start to walk back to the truck. When I get to the truck I try and push it off the road, but my awesome flip flops won’t let me get purchase, so it stays right where it is. As soon as I give up I see a Miratorg car pull up behind me and the farm mechanic has come to my rescue.
I am convinced that the only reason this happened is because I left the house with no minutes on my phone, no water, and in flip flops. If I had been prepared or wearing tennis shoes this never would have happened. Please don’t interpret this as me giving up on flip flops. I’m just going to start stocking my phone and the diaper bag a little better.
We had been without the truck for about three weeks when Dave drove it home at lunch. It had been declared “fixed” and was ready to go. I had been going a little stir crazy so I decided on a last minute trip to town that afternoon. I was out of minutes on my phone so I called Dave through Skype and told him I was going to town to fill up my phone and get a couple things at the store. He said that sounded good and let me know he was going to be late again, probably wouldn’t get home until eight or nine. I thought that was perfect because that way I could fix a late dinner and take my time in town.
Normally I have a drawer in the wardrobe by the front door dedicated to getting ready to go stuff. Snacks, baby shoes, and all the goodies you need as a mommy to make things go smoothly. I was so ready to get out of the house that I just grabbed the diaper bag without even checking to see what was in it and hit the road. This was my first time going to Trubchevsk by myself, so I was a little nervous that I might not be able to find the grocery store on the first try, but no big deal, I had plenty of time.
By the time I was driving through the nearest village, Kotlokova, I knew something was a little fishy with the truck. Not being a master mechanic, I decided to keep going and let Dave know it was a little funky when I got home. I made it just outside of Golevesk and the truck totally stopped working. I wasn’t thinking very clearly because I didn’t get it all the way off the road before I came to a stop. So. There I was broke down, half on half off the road in the middle of Russia with no way to phone for help, 10 miles from home, with no water and a cranky baby and wearing flip flops. Yikes.
I checked the time, it was 5:15. Best case scenario, Dave would get home at eight that night, wonder where I am, and call. Then I could let him know I was stranded. My phone could take calls but not make them. I really was not looking forward to sitting in a hot truck for three to four hours. So I put AJ in the carrier, grabbed 300 rubles and my travel dictionary and started walking to Golevesk. The town in really tiny and doesn’t have a store, but there is a nice babushka that sells potatoes, carrots, onions and flowers in a little stand by the side of the road. I had bought carrots and a lily from her the week before and I thought maybe she could help me.
I made it to her house and saw to my amazement a pay phone that I had never seen before. Yay!! I had 70 Rubles in coins in my pocket. Problem solved. Three barking dogs started running at me and I couldn’t get any closer to the phone. The nice babushka shooed them away as I said, “Machina niet roboto,” which is essentially, “Car no work.” One of the first things you learn in Russia is, “Niet Robota,” because a lot of things don’t work. I gestured to the telephone and asked if I could use it. I asked, “Rubles?” and she replied, “Niet. Carta.” I had left all my debit cards back in the truck because I didn’t think I would need them. Oh well, back to the truck for my debit card. This time, I grabbed my whole diaper bag and wallet and walked back to the pay phone. She was waiting outside her house for me and got the dogs out of my way and let me walk up to the pay phone. I put my card in… nothing. Niet roboto.
Babushka was ready to come to my aid, she tried to wave down several cars for me so I could get a ride. Finally, a cargo truck stopped, but based on what he said, I think he was going to a different town and didn’t want to drop me at the farm. A bus passed by but it didn’t stop. Argh. An actual taxi stopped but he must not have liked the look of me because even though he did not have a passenger he wouldn’t give me a ride. She decided to try and call and get me a taxi. She went inside and got her phone, and I said, “Plejalsta, ya telephone mush.” Essentially, “Please, I telephone husband.” She happily handed me her phone and I punched in Dave’s number… niet roboto. She dialed his number… niet roboto. I tried one more time, held down the zero key to get the plus sign and dialed again, and then I heard the long thin ring of a Russian phone ringing and Dave answers the phone.
He says he will try and get somebody over to me, and that he will do his best. His best is good enough for me, so totally relieved I say to my new bestie, “Bolshoy Spasiba!!! Bolshoy Spasiba!!” I try to hand her some rubles while I say, “Big thanks, big thanks!” She won’t take the money and tells me, “Nasdarovia!” It is, “To my health.” Awesome. She tries to convince me to sit in the shade on the bench in front of her house, but I don’t know who is coming to get me and they aren’t going to be looking for me there, so I decline and start to walk back to the truck. When I get to the truck I try and push it off the road, but my awesome flip flops won’t let me get purchase, so it stays right where it is. As soon as I give up I see a Miratorg car pull up behind me and the farm mechanic has come to my rescue.
I am convinced that the only reason this happened is because I left the house with no minutes on my phone, no water, and in flip flops. If I had been prepared or wearing tennis shoes this never would have happened. Please don’t interpret this as me giving up on flip flops. I’m just going to start stocking my phone and the diaper bag a little better.
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