by KR Slade

Photo: http://englishrussia.com/index.php/2009/07/17/kommunal-apartments-in-russia/

‘Eastern-Europe – after the first romance’ by KR Slade

After one or two years in Eastern-Europe, sometimes one might hear, “there is nothing else quite like …”:

— noticing that everything available for sale is always junk, always from China, that is always junk . . .

— trying to understand how to use an expensive, German-designed vacuum cleaner; to make us more thankful that they did not win the last two World Wars . . .

— cooking on a kitchen gas-stove from Russia with heat controls that function either ‘on’ or ‘off’, and nothing-in-between . . .

— wrestling with an old refrigerator from Minsk that makes us be nice with all of our neighbors, in the hope that someday some necessary six of them will help us lift it so we can finally throw it out . . .

— driving an automobile made in France; to appreciate the concept of ‘bass-ackwards’ . . .

— examining a Soviet-era potato-peeler, or can-opener; to make us wonder how they could possibly have built nuclear weapons . . .

— buying an ‘assemble-it-yourself’ desk from Poland, and the store’s display sample looks nothing like the pictures on either the box or in the directions . . . and when it is finally assembled, it looks nothing like any of the foregoing . . .

— choosing a canned-ham from Denmark, to thank God that we don’t have to smell pigs in our own countryside . . .

— deciphering a computer program in Lithuanian, an ancient language, but currently being adapted to technology; the new Lithuanian technical words that even the Lithuanians do not understand; to make us wonder why the murder-rate of philologists is not higher . . .

— driving a new Italian automobile faster, and faster; because it is going to fall-apart very, very soon . . .

— using a Communist toilet, obviously designed by someone who had a cousin who was director of a toilet-brush factory that was ordered by the Central Planning Committee to increase sales . . .

— having the luxury of a washing machine, but from Sweden, with all 16 options clearly labeled: in Swedish . . .

— carrying many coins with a value of a fraction of one North American cent . . .

— getting holes in pants-pockets from so-many coins, and so-many door keys: so-intricate, so-wide, so-thick, so-heavy, and so-long . . .

— opening beer bottles without twist-off caps; but learning to open them with a cigarette lighter (at $.20US, but that lights only 20 times), or a coin, or anything else handy . . .

— eating food that has names that have no translation in the English language . . .

— shopping for the Tylenol-equivalent, but not buying it at $0.0253US, because we know another place where it is $0.0203US; tomorrow, when we may be near that other cheaper place, perhaps; or next week when I will see my cousin who lives near there . . .

— learning that in the entire country, the internet is not working; today; all day; maybe tomorrow; or maybe not . . .

— realizing that the electricity stopped today; four times, up to an hour each time, in the entire city-block . . .

— remembering that there was no hot water for 5 consecutive days, in each of the 5 places that I have lived in the last 15 months; but there was no cold water for only 2 consecutive days in each place, although more frequently . . .

— living with ‘centralized heating’ (provided by the city to all buildings) that is turned-on only after three-consecutive days when the temperature has been so cold as to have required heat; but it takes 2 days to feel the heat after it is turned on at the central production facility . . .

— learning that everything takes longer than we thought it could possibly take … far longer … and then still-longer to almost complete … until finally at near-completion, the original plan is no longer valid . . .

— visiting a law court (as a spectator) and wondering if we’re are not in a theatre, watching some clown dressed-up as a judge, who couldn’t get a job in legitimate theatre because he is such a bad actor . . .

— turning-on the TV to one of the three channels and watching “Mr.-Ed-The-Talking-Horse”, a sitcom from the 1960’s, dubbed with one voice speaking all of the characters (including the horse, of course), in some Slavic language, with subtitles obviously in another Slavic language . . .

— sleeping the not-so-dark but long-winter nights that end at 9am and begin again before 4pm . . .

— looking out the window anytime of year and trying to remember how many weeks that it has been since we last saw the sun . . .

— carrying an umbrella on one of the few beautiful sunny days; so it will not rain . . .

— going to the food market to buy sugar, reading the label in six languages that I do not understand and the next morning with my coffee realizing that I bought salt . . .

— knowing 100 times a day that Stalin still lives and is minded, in the minds and lives of most, if not all . . .

— seeing buildings that are not old until they’re older than 500 years . . .

— being where your ancestors were born, walked, prayed, worked, and died since 2,000 years ago . . .

— looking in the mirror at myself after I get out of the shower and knowing that I never-before looked this good . . .

— being every day with the nicest people whom I’ve ever encountered . . .

— enjoying great beer (and that’s cheaper than Coca-Cola) . . .

— being with the most-beautiful people that I’ve ever seen, and speaking with many, many times, every day . . .

— surfing the internet today and seeing the photo of one of my flat-mates; she’s now called ‘a defender of freedom’ for what previously was called ‘anti-Soviet activities’, having been exiled to Siberia, twice . . .

— And the romance remains . . .