In case we all forgot, it’s hard to
live in a different country. Heck, it’s
hard to live in your own native country, but that rant is for a different
day. The hardships of living in a
foreign country are different for everyone, but the unifying factor is
generally food and the way of doing business.
Food, of course is universal.
There are days when I wish more than anything that I could just have
breakfast which I don’t have to make.
Sure, most people are probably asking themselves, breakfast? What’s so hard about that? The answer: everything. Americans are raised with the notion of
breakfast, if you don’t believe me, watch Breaking Bad. Even when it’s just cold cereal, there’s
something very comforting about cereal and cold milk and juice. This kind of breakfast is possible to find in
various countries, but not always. In
Mongolia this was a fantasy never to be realized. These days, in Siberia I would love nothing
more than an omelet or even more exotic, a breakfast burrito. Here’s a Russian omelet: runny eggs,
seriously the FDA would have a panic attack, and barely cooked tomatoes. No onions, no veggies, no cheese and no black
pepper at all. I can more or less live
without the frills, but runny eggs? That
will just go on the Ridiculous Paradox List.
Ice is bad, but uncooked eggs are just peachy. And French Toast. Yes, I have become the French Toast Master,
but still, even I get tired of cooking.
It’s not like it’s hard, it’s just eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, sugar
and bread, but still, if people can’t
even thoroughly cook eggs…I’ll let you continue my thought for me.
From the tone, yes, I’m hungry and deeply
annoyed. At some point I’m really going
to have to question my decision making paradigm, but until I do, I’ll just have
to complain. Last week, I made the
impulsive decision to stop by my favorite place in the city to buy coffee for
my friend. Imagine my surprise when that
barista was so excited to see me, along with two other men, one of whom I had
never met before. Given my sour mood, I
couldn’t tell if they were being sarcastic or genuine. They not only complimented my ‘sexy accent’
(this still makes me smile, I forget that Russians either love or hate my
accent) but invited me to stay for a traditional Chinese tea ceremony. Globalization never ceases to amaze me. After receiving such a compliment, how could
I refuse? It’s had really been a while
since I had a real conversation in Russian about something other than English
grammar or buying food, so my manners were a little rusty. I can’t say the tea was amazing, because
green tea is green tea to me, but the company was amazing. I have noticed that there are two types of
Russian speakers, those who communicate clearly and those who don’t. It’s really that simple. People who communicate clearly don’t yell,
don’t use exotic structures and aren’t arrogant, and these people are so great
to talk to. I appreciate it when people
want to speak to me without wanting or expecting from me, as in wanting to
practice their English with me (which is really torturous when I’m not working
because it’s always something like, “I very really no not English”) or wanting
to know why I’m here. The people I was
sharing tea with wanted to talk about the medical uses of tea and the weather
and other random topics. I found myself relaxing
and realized how anxious and stressed I’ve been recently; like a coiled
snake. When I left, I was honestly sad
to depart from my favorite place, because I don’t get to go there very often.
As I walked home I felt as though I
were seeing the city for the first time in weeks. I call this Russian Reboot. For the first time in weeks I had connected
with people that I didn’t know and would probably never see again, which is
fine. Half of the beauty of traveling
and living abroad is for such moments of pure Zen. You find yourself laughing and sharing
stories with people whom you don’t know, but you don’t care because for a
minute you are friends and understand that language isn’t that big of a
deal. I needed the reboot because even
the most optimistic people get weighed down with nonsense with babushka logic
(which is non-existent), toxic fumes being pumped into your lungs on a regular basis,
lack of hot water, people not caring about being late and the list just continues. The Reboot allows me to see past these things
and really appreciate the changing leave colors, the humor of the street
vendors and the occasional good humor of the bus conductor. The Russian Reboot also reminded me that
despite the lack of cooked eggs and normal food, at least I’m spared from the
nonsense of the American government shut down.
It could always be worse.
