Day 30

What happens when you visit a market too many times? They run out of the things you like. The large market now only has rubbery cucumbers and bruised tomatoes. The little market no longer has instant soups or “sesame brittle”.

What do you do with kids when you only have a two room hotel “suite” and it’s cold and rainy outside? We eat. We play Uno. We go shopping for food. We go for a walk in the rain. Mud, ugh. You do laundry. Again.

Now, a little about the washing machine.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would ask that today you appreciate your washing machine. That’s right, that utilitarian appliance that is unsung, unobserved by the many honored visitors to your home, often hidden in closet or an unadorned room of your house. For my sake, stand in front of the thing and utter a prayer of thanksgiving. Observe every item you place inside its oft used interior and imagine trying to wash each of those items in a basin not created for that use. Standing over bathroom sink or shower, back aching, no they don’t come out as clean. For my sake, be grateful this day for this humble appliance. Thank you.

Now back to our regular programming.

We went shopping at the big market in the morning, and bought a lot of food. The girls wanted to take a taxi back to the hotel. They always want to take a taxi. What is it with taxis? Is it some kind of status symbol, to be able to afford a taxi? We went to the pizza place in the afternoon. Tanya came, and we fed them all. We went to the little market after lunch. It was raining, so we took a taxi to the hotel. Even though we just had lunch, the girls started eating again. Nastiya decided she was sleepy, so she and Eileen lay on the bed and watched TV. A Jackie Chan movie, dubbed. Sasha and I played cards. After a while, I went in to watch TV. Sasha cleaned up the room, and did a great job. Then we all ended up on the bed. We quickly went from tickling to teasing. Oh well. Back to the internot by bus. Hugs and kisses and a choop-a-choop (lollipop). Eileen and I walked back in the mist. It’s easier to walk back to the hotel, it’s downhill.

I have a bachelor’s degree in missions. Not that I ever wanted to go somewhere. I had a domestic people group in mind, but that isn’t important. In missionary school, they assume everyone is leaving the country, so they prepare you for that. I remember a thing or two they said all those years ago about leaving your country to be assimilated into another. The first month you observe and appreciate the similarities and differences of your new surroundings. A kind of honeymoon, if you will. You have respect for their culture, traditions and daily practice of survival, who they are in the grand scheme of things called the “brotherhood of man.” After about a month the delight of the new land starts to get on your nerves. You begin to miss the things unique to home (or the things home does better). The thought of a McDonald’s hamburger would not, even under the most dire circumstances, appeal to my snobbish American taste buds while on American soil, but being so far from home for this length of time and observing somewhat closely the quality of the equivalent here, I would pay; yes give actually money, for even a small bite of said burger this side of the Atlantic.

This is the sort of thinking that goes through one’s mind, one month into the process. Why don’t they turn the lights on around here? Its dark enough even in the daylight! Stop littering people! You really must pass some laws to keep the average person with reasonable bladder control from eliminating wherever he pleases. To say nothing of the dogs. The rant will stop here. However this should give you some insight as to why a person who has been here for 4+ weeks starts to forfeit little bits of sanity to stay afloat on the sea of alienation. Bear in mind those who have questionable sanity to begin with, stand even more to lose.

My husband is on the floor squishing ants.