Things I take (took) for granted

Scotch tape
Ground beef
Aluminum foil
Ziploc baggies
Windex
Organic milk
Wal-mart
Fresh fruits & veggies easily available year-round
Envelopes
Michaels & Hobby Lobby
our car
Chick-fil-A 

Just a few things that I took for granted in the States but don't come easily or perhaps at all here in Far East Russia. 

Along the lines of the last list item, don't try fast food in Russia. Well, it wasn't my idea.  But we met up with some new friends who took us to one of the only local fast-food restaurants in town called the "Golden Bird".   You guessed it - a fast-food chicken restaurant.  It doesn't really have a comparison  in the States, so I won't even make the attempt.  As far as I am concerned, I don't ever need to go back.   I'm just thankful I we didn't have food poisoning afterwards.  Hubby says that Far East Russia has effectively kept out all Western fast-food chains which have made their way across Western Europe (i.e.  McDonalds, Starbucks, and probably several others).    With the exception of Starbucks (which I wouldn't mind), it's not a bad thing!

A little jaunt to the store

Have you ever said, "I just need to run to the store for a few things."?  Living in the States, it means I hop in the car, drive a mile or two to the local grocery store, park my car, walk a hundred feet or so to the front door, push my buggy around the store, unload my groceries in the car, and drive the short ride back, all in about 30 or so minutes, unscathed.

Here in Russia it means a completely different thing.  Take the other day for example.  I get on the elevator, go down to the bottom of the apartment, walk up the hill to the courtyard gate, walk down the hill about 5 minutes or so, go into the store, try to figure out what I am looking at by reading all the Russian labels, pay for my groceries, bag them myself, and then walk up the hill with my hands as full as possible, get to the front door to the apartment, only to find out that the lift (elevator) is broken, go back outside to the stairway entrance and walk up the dark 7 floors to our apartment.  By the time I get to the front door, I am out of breath.  On the positive side, I hope my arms are a little stronger.

Or take today for example, I walk a block in the rain to the bus stop.  I get on the bus, pay my 15 rubles (about 50 cents), go another block or two to the next stop, get off the bus, take my life into my own hands by crossing the extremely overcrowded street (where btw, drivers have absolutely no regard for pedestrians), and after purchasing my groceries, walk home the 3-4 blocks in the pouring rain because I forgot that the bus stop is behind the store and not in front of the store.  The humorous part is that although it is raining, I am actually carrying 3 umbrellas under my arm.  As it apparently rains often here, I bought 2 umbrellas for the kids and was carrying one for myself.  None of which I was able to actually use because my arms were loaded down with groceries.  It would probably be better to have a video of this experience for those of you who have never lived in this part of the world.  But you get the picture...the little things we take for granted in the States are not so little over here. 

p.s.  Please excuse the run-on sentences.  These postings are unedited and simply musings from life here.  Usually there is a little person at my side waiting not so patiently for Mommy's attention.

Views from our neighborhood

 
Khabarovsk airport- upon arrival

                             
                     the front door to our apartment building
  "People-watching"

                                                        view from our 7th floor window

a Russian Orthodox church (in the background)

Daily Life

I already mentioned that I see mothers everywhere pushing their baby strollers.  They are everywhere.  Kids are everywhere - playing, going to school, walking with their Moms or Babushkas.  But I have yet to see a mother with 4 children.  And I also have yet to hear an English speaker.  So, it doesn't need to be said that we sort of stand out.  This city is not set up for a mother with 4 small children trailing behind.  Today we took our life in our hands just getting off the bus and crossing the street so that we could get to the grocery store.  The seats in the bus are few and far between, set aside for those with children or "invalids" as the sign reads.  But when you take up 4 bus seats on a crowded bus and you are only paying 30 rubles for the trip, however long (a little more than $1.00), I felt a little guilty.   I had already told the children to give up their seats if a babuskha came onboard, but fortunately for us, Russians are sympathetic to small children.  The older 3 were on the playground this afternoon while I prepared lunch.  Though we are on the 7th floor, with my window open, I can hear everything down there.  So, I had the window open listening while they were playing.  I hear C4's cry for help.  When we went down to see what had happened, a babushka sitting nearby asked me if she could give him a piece of candy, "so that he would feel better".  So, back to the grocery store.  After making it safely to the store and putting our bags in the lockers (which you have to do in every store), I was relieved to discover that in this store I could actually take off the shelf what I wanted and pay all at once after bagging my own groceries.  This in contrast to last night when I went to buy some chicken & eggs in a Soviet-style store.  There stood in the same small room two ladies - one selling chicken and one selling eggs.  I asked the egg lady for 10 eggs (which is how they come in Russia as opposed to 12 or a dozen).  But I didn't have the right change.  So she gave me my money back.  I suppose she was just not going to sell me the eggs.  I asked if I could pay for the chicken and eggs together.  She told me that I would have to pay for them separately.  So then I asked the chicken lady if I could buy some chicken.  I paid her; she gave me change; and then I was able to pay for the eggs with the change.  Why couldn't they exchange money between themselves, you might ask?  Suffice it to say, customer service is just not what they do best here.  

It takes a while to get adjusted here and especially to buy the things I am looking for, but it is an interesting life.  To my friends who have lived in Ukraine, you will appreciate this.  Did you know that you can now buy peanut butter and brown sugar even in Far East Russia now?  Oh and for my Eastern shore friends, kefir is as plentiful as milk and bread.  Instead of lugging brown sugar half-way across the world, I should have brought vanilla and scotch tape.  Those things I am searching for and have yet to find.

First impressions

I haven't written because it has just been so busy, and because blogger was down for 2 days for posting. When Scott first came back from Russia he alluded to feeling like he had walked through the wardrobe from Narnia. It does feel a bit like "Narnia". It is just so different from our life in the States. People are still people, and so in that regard things are the same. I will attempt to give you a glimpse in somewhat of a list format

What do I see?
People walking everywhere
Children playing in the courtyard
Tall apartment buildings
City lights
Grass-lined boulevards
Entry gates to every courtyard
Young mothers pushing baby strollers
Large potholes sometimes 10 feet deep in the streets
People sometimes staring at us with our 4 small children

What do I hear?
Cars all through the night
Buses
Car alarms
Squeals of children playing
Russian speakers everywhere

Yesterday we decided to meet one of Scott's coworkers and his Russian wife, Tanya, at one of the largest department stores in the city. There is a large grocery store on the bottom floor. We put on our jackets and hats, walked several blocks, caught a bus, rode for a while, and then walked a couple more blocks to the store. I did some grocery shopping while Daddy took the kids to the top floor for an ice-cream treat. The kids love all the treats. In every grocery store, there are rows of candies, fresh cookies, pastries, breads, and all sorts of yummy delicacies most that you will not find in the States.

It was a memorable flight for several reasons. I should have known when we had to wait half an hour on the runway with 2 screaming children or when my smoothie spilled all over the lady's seat in front of me before she ever boarded or when I discovered that I only brought one knitting needle with me. The crying children who will remain anonymous for their own good measure did eventually stop. Have you ever tried to discipline children in an airplane? Everyone else just wants them quiet, but if you give them the thing they are crying over then you are just indulging their will. No one got much sleep but we did make it without an international incident. I think that the flight attendants were just glad to have us off though. Credit is due to the kids for pulling their own suitcases through Atlanta and Moscow. The boys each had to push a luggage cart through Moscow full of heavy bags. Glad I have boys! The best part was how easily we made it through customs and passport control. For those of you have flown internationally any, you know that can be a real difficulty. But God sent an angel to literally escort us not through, but around customs without so much as looking at any of our 19 bags. That was no small thing but clearly an answered prayer. I am sitting here in a beautiful Russian village hotel right now where the weather is delightful and making the most of our 11 hour layover. C3 and I just enjoyed a walk through the village.

The journey begins...

19 bags and 750+ lbs. & 6 children made it to the airport this morning. We even made it on time, I might add. That in itself is remarkable for our family. Everything went smoothly as we checked in and manageable through security. (Although now that I think about it, C3 at one point did just sit down and park himself in the security aisle. I guess he had already had too much fun!) We had practiced that one yesterday. The part I failed to practice was going up an escalator while pulling a carry-on and wearing a backpack. From now on I will refer to the children as C8, C6, C4, and C3 (as of tomorrow). C8 and C4 made it fine. C6 and C3 had a mild meltdown. I was thankful for the nice skycap who helped up C6 and for Mimi with C3. We may not be so fortunate in other airports. I am also thankful right now for the person who thought up the idea to put children's cartoons and toys in the gate area, thus allowing me to begin my journal. More to be continued...