Our truck has broken down again, so on Monday Janae and her son Walker picked AJ and I up and we went grocery shopping. Having the truck broken down is kind of a mixed blessing. It stinks to not have a truck whenever we need it, but Janae is kind enough to take me grocery shopping and I really enjoy the company. Walker is really great with AJ and she loves it when he pushes her around in the cart. I was trying to get a lot of groceries so I ended up needing two carts. The carts here are like everything else, very small.
I had just finished at the cheese counter and we were heading toward the check out line when a woman came up to me and started speaking really quickly in Russian. I told her I didn't understand but she kept talking very quickly. I looked at Walker and asked him if he knew what she was talking about. He didn't have a clue either. She kept repeating herself over and over and finally I picked out the word for cheese. "Aha! I know just where the cheese counter is," I thought. I pointed to the back of the store towards the cheese counter. She shook her head no. She knew where they kept the cheese.
I had taken the last of the Parmesan cheese and she was in desperate need of it.
I was really tempted to tell her to take a hike, but I did not have a specific dish that I needed the Parmesan for, I just like to have it on hand. I decided that if she was going to accost a strange foreigner in a grocery store she probably really needed the cheese. I like to think that I saved her dinner party or helped her make the perfect dish for her husband's birthday dinner or that she had had an uncontrollable craving for spaghetti and it wouldn't be the same without Parmesan. I'm sure it was something equally dramatic.
Sometimes I have imaginary conversations with Dave. I'll think, "Oh, the fall leaves are beautiful! We should go to Maine and see the changing of the seasons!"
Meggan: Dave, let's go to Maine and see the leaves.
Dave: ...
Meggan: We'll buy plane tickets, and rent a car, and drive around and look at leaves! Doesn't that sound like fun???!!! We could stay at old bed and breakfasts and stop in little antique stores!
Dave: ...
Meggan: I'm sure it wouldn't be too expensive, and because they catch the lobsters right there they are probably like half price! We could eat Maine lobster in MAINE!!!!
Dave: ...
This imaginary conversation took place as we were driving through the beautiful orange and yellows of fall in Russia. I decided that this was probably as close as I was going to get get to a trip to New England, so every five minutes I said, "Oh, isn't that beautiful!" And every five minutes Dave said, "Yes."
At the end of August or the beginning of September, my friend Janae said, "Now would be a good time to start looking for pumpkins." Having to search for pumpkins is not something I had ever really thought about before. But, Janae has been here almost three years and I consider her my guru on all things related to life in Russia. She reminded me several more times over the next couple weeks, and she was planning on staking out the open market and trying to get one of the Babushkas to provide the pumpkin hook up.
When I saw the mini pumpkin at the open market I knew I needed to take immediate action to secure some pumpkins. I bought that one and then tried to find out if I could get more. I asked what the word for pumpkin was in Russian, it is Kasha. I called Dave's interpreter and said, "Hi Kate, I am trying to get some pumpkins, some Kasha, can you ask this Babushka if she has some and if maybe she could bring some next week?" Kate agreed to try and I went to hand my phone to the Babushka to see if we could work out a plan. She wouldn't take the phone so I had to bend over and hold it up to her ear. That was not working and Kate wasn't making any progress. I thanked her and hung up and considered my next step.
"Yest balshoy kasha?" I asked about 5 times, "Have big pumpkin?" She didn't seem to understand what I was looking for. Then another lady came over and started talking to me really fast. I told her in Russian that I didn't understand, but she kept on talking and soon another lady got in the mix. They were all three talking to me in Russian, but after a little bit, a few words started popping out. I understood car, pumpkin, house. It finally occurred to me that she wanted me to drive her to her house and she would sell me pumpkins there. She was pretty little and pretty old so I figured I was probably pretty safe. Plus, 15 people were watching us hatch this plan so at least one of them would tell the police where I went with my one-year-old daughter in the event that we turned up missing or dead.
We got in the truck and she directed me down a side street and past the park and over one of the worst dirt roads I have seen in Russia. I drove up a narrow drive and parked in front of a burgundy garage and fence and followed her into her back yard. I think she expected me to leave AJ in the truck because she just took off without waiting for me to get her out of her car seat. I followed her through a gate and down into her back yard. We were still in the city limits but you really weren't able to tell. There were chickens all over the place and random squashes and about 30 pumpkins all piled under a low hanging tree.
"Eureka!" I cried.
Not really."Awesome!" I cried. And then I called Janae and asked her how many pumpkins she wanted. We settled on 8 total and I proceeded to pick out our pumpkins. I think the Babushka thought I wanted to eat them because she kept cutting little divots out of the top of them to show me the flesh. Luckily, they weren't too big, but I did get a little nervous when she walked up with the hatchet. Nervous for the pumpkins. She was pretty nice so I wasn't too worried for me.
I asked her how much they were and she wanted 100 rubles for the little ones and 200 for the big ones. I couldn't understand most of what she was saying, so I just pulled 1,000 rubles out of my pocket and she seemed pretty pleased with that. We hauled the pumpkins back to the truck and loaded them around AJ in the back seat, I've learned not to put anything that I don't want to be ruined in the bed of the truck. I turned to the Babushka and said, "Balshoy Spaseeba!" She seemed pleased with my big thanks but then looked alarmed like I might not take her back to the market. I gave her a ride back and drove home with my triumphant load of pumpkins.
I love the bright colors of the houses here. I really feel like they have a fairy tale quality to them. Granted, some do look like they are where the wicked witch might live, but a lot of them are charming. They all seem to have benches in front of them, and if you drive through town in the evening or in the afternoon on Sunday, you see Babushkas and Dadushkas out gossiping and watching the world and crazy Americans drive by. I don't generally like to take pictures of people without their permission, and I really don't feel up to pantomiming blogging for them... so here are the benches without occupants.
