In a day...

When I returned to the States, friends would ask, "So, what does a normal day look like?" 

Often, my answer would be a quick rehearsal of our normal routine.  School schedules.  Hopping on buses.  Gym visits.  Trips to the market.  Walking.  Playtime at the park.  Homework in the afternoons.  Church.  Etc. 

But, really, I think the question was/is: what is life like or how is it different from here?

So, what I write below is a glimpse into a day. 

This week Michael has traveled to Germany, working in a quaint town with good food.  :)  That, though, leaves the girls and I on our own.  : (

And, oddly enough, the past few days have been filled with 'extraordinary' events.  For example, on Tuesday evening, we hosted our first Russian birthday celebration.  Lots of ladies.  Lots of food.  And, lots of laughter.  Then, on Wednesday morning we visited the doctor's office, here, in Moscow.  That, however, must be another story for another time.  : ) 

Until then, I will stick with one of the more 'usual' of our week's activities: grocery shopping.

Here, I visit a market several times a week.  Generally, I like to shop at a store on the opposite side of Leninskiy Prospekt -- called OKEN (imagine the 'N' being backwards) and pronounced 'OKAY' - I think.  When the girls and I go, we can usually walk there in about 15 minutes.  Once we enter the store, any bag that I have (either from another shop or my reusable shopping bags) apart from my purse is handed to an employee.  She (usually) puts the additional bag into a clear, white plastic bag and seals it with what looks to be a giant paper cutter.  I get a cart and wheel through the metal detectors.  Like most grocery chains in the U.S., the produce is located in the front of the store.  I start there.  I pick up my fruits and veggies; and, then, I bag, weigh and tag (price) them.  Thankfully, the weigh stations have pictures of the foods.  Otherwise, we might not eat!  Ha! 

As time has passed, I have become more familiar with the names of different products.  That means that I don't have to whip out my iPhone to Google translate every item on my list.  I can now read and pronounce (Woo-hoo!) the Russian words for butter, milk, cheese, bread, cream, sugar, salt, etc.  I can only hope my vocabulary continues to grow. 

I like this store for another reason, as well.  Here, I can find a good selection of prepackaged fresh meats.  Some shops I have visited have only a butcher's department.  And, I am fairly certain I would end up buying pig's tongue when I was hoping for pork chops... since my language skills are well... not very good (and, I'm being kind).  After passing the meat department and butcher's area/deli, I continue gathering various supplies along the aisles.  I try to remember that I will carry these groceries home, so I should not get more than I need.  For a girl who loves Costco and buying in bulk, it is easy to forget.  : )

As for the actual stuff, it is the same - yet different.  For instance, milk comes in quart size, is less pasturized and, in my opinion, tastes better.  Eggs are packaged in groups of ten, rather than twelve.  Sandwiches are served open, on fresh baked bread.  Instant coffee fills the shelves.  Laundry detergent can be purchased in a box the size of Wheat Thins.  Dryer sheets, Ziploc bags, Ranch dressing and vanilla extract are absent.  The same and different.  Like my every day life. 

When the cart has reached my max capacity, we head to the check out point.  If I forgot my reusable shopping bags, I purchase plastic ones.  Those - along with my suppplies - slide down the conveyor belt.  I start bagging while the cashier scans.  When finished, she tells me the total.  Again, I am thankful for computer screens that flash numbers.  Not only am I terrible at counting in Russian, sometimes the person speaks so rapidly - the only number I can make out is 4.  And, I'm pretty certain my order cost more than 4 Rubles (approx. 30 Rubles = 1 U.S. dollar). 

I scavenge through my wallet, and hope I have exact change.  If I don't, she will ask, again.  She might even take the money out of my hand to make sure I don't have what she needs.  Last night, our Russian language tutor explained how I should respond when I do not have correct bills; "Apologize and look as though you feel quite bad."  I responded, jokingly, "Maybe I could start to cry..."  She said, "No, that is not necessary, but you must look very upset."  Okay.  Perhaps, the acting training will come in handy, after all.  : )

Though, this is common, what amazes me is that I am almost always met with kindness. 

When I bumble and fumble, feeling out of place and ignorant - I receive grace.  When I, in my broken and excrutiatingly limited Russian, try to understand or communicate, I am not met with anger or frustration.  Instead, I am offered compassion...even a sense of welcome.  People try to meet me where I am, rather than shame me for what I am not.      

I guess, in a day, that is what happens most frequently.  I am helped by people I do not know and faces I may never see again.  From the countless people who relinquish their seat on the bus for my children to the clerk who smiles at me - even though she is aware I'm clueless and without correct change, my days are filled with small and abundant mercies.

So, I gather up my bags and my brood and walk out of the market into the bustling city street with a heart full of gratitude and arms full of groceries.