Three Things

Notice in the Interests of Science

So, I heard one time that they often, in the brave sea-faring days of yore, took onions onboard ships for long voyages, to avoid scurvy. And I really like onions. And we had a bunch of onions in the refrigerator. So, naturally, I attempted to eat one, raw, like an apple... and, well, I do not recommend repetition of this experiment. I got down two large bites, my nose and sinuses burning, with only the aid of a cup of tea; then I went and got a piece of bread to eat between bites, and managed one or two more. Then I gave up, put cheese on the bread, and just ate that. I wonder exactly how bad it is that all I ever eat, really, is variations on the theme of bread, cheese, and sausage. I am delighted with this mean plan, personally, but I suppose it may not be the most healthy.

Unconnected Note involving Post Offices:

I spent a very long time this weekend and Monday attempting to mail various letters from downtown and failing. The tale of my failure is not especially interesting, but it was very, very frustrating. This afternoon, though, following my host sister’s vague directions (pointing in the correct direction from the balcony), I found a post office near our apartment. And there was not a line. And when I gave the woman there my letters and explained that I would like to mail them to various foreign countries and did not know how many stamps I needed she wordlessly but pleasantly enough applied stamps to them. Then she gave the letters back to me, which was sort of odd considering that we were in a post office and all, and I think she also short-changed me, and, most crucially, I think she may have been applying stamps at random, maybe based on which ones she liked, because the postal rates make very little sense. The letter to Paris, for instance, has the same stamp-value as the one to Yaroslavl, within Russia. Still, I found a mailbox, put them in, and my grumpy frustration of the morning, left over from the accumulated boredom and postal-failures of the past three days, immediately lifted. The letters may never arrive, but they are out of my hands, and it was as close to a successful business transaction as I have come to hope for. My elation was undampened even by the ridiculousness of being made to put little plastic wrappers over my shoes when I went into Alex’s Gym when they were tearing up the floor as they told me to put on the wrapper things, there was nothing worth keeping clean, and when the walls to the women’s changing room had not reappeared and I once again changed in the room with the tanning bed, or when I had forgotten my running shoes and worked out in socks, and by the establishment not having any available drinkable water. Any annoyance from these events was completely removed by the awesomeness of Alex’s accent when he asked me in English, when I was bench-pressing, “Ken I khelp you?”

Man. I am never going to get the taste of that onion out of my mouth. Or, probably, the smell off my breath. I’m going to find some cheese, the second major food group. Third if you count tea as being in first place, followed by bread, cheese, sausage.

Update:
To show the deep level of intercultural communication in which I regularly engage, and why my host family thinks I am very odd, I here post a transcript of a typical conversation with my host sister, Katya.
[We are eating dinner, which is pasta]

Katya: When we were in Italy, every day they gave us pasta and water.

I nod, and apparently don’t look shocked enough.

Katya: We thought this was very strange, because we usually drink tea.

Me: Oh, yes, in America we drink a lot of water. In fact, often each person has his own large plastic bottle, called a Nalgene, which he carries around with him everywhere, even to class, and drinks water all day.

Katya: [incredulously] Why?

Me: Oh, I don’t know, I guess we’re just used to drinking water.
[note: Russians would never drink in class. It would be very disrespectful. Or the teachers would just think they were pregnant, as apparently happened to one Middlebury student.]

Katya: I think we drink so much tea because we are so close to Asia.

Me: [declining to mention that the definition of Siberia is “the northern half of Asia” and that Baikal is in the direct center of Asia] Oh, yes. America is much more far from Asia. Perhaps that is why we do not drink so much tea.

Katya: But you drink coffee.

Me: Yes, in America we drink a lot of coffee.

Katya: Then why don’t you drink any coffee here? [She looks at the jar of instant coffee sitting on the table.]

Me: Oh, I don’t know...

Katya: Do you not like coffee?

Me: I like coffee.

Katya: Then why don’t you drink it?

Me: Well I like tea. And, actually, I never drank instant coffee. I should try it some time.

Katya: Oh. We’re used to instant coffee. It’s so much less work than making it on the stove.

Me: Ah, well, in America, rather than having chai-niks, most people have coffee-makers in their houses. Probably it is better to have a chai-nik, tea is very healthy.

Katya: You don’t have chai-niks?

Me: No. We know they exist. And many people drink tea. But we still just heat up the water on the stove.

Katya: Russians all have chai-niks.

Me: Ah, yes. Perhaps because you used to have samovars.

Katya: Yes. Why don’t you ever go anywhere? There’s a nightclub near here.

And then we are back to the real reason these people think I am crazy- I’m always here when they come home. They’re always asking me if I have any friends.