We played another game of basketball, this time dozens of kids came out when we first showed up. Not a person on the court, no kids in sight, then we bounce the ball a few times and here they come! Some of the older kids have a few words in English, like "My name is ....". They line up at the side, waiting to play. We organize teams, so many want to play that it was 10 on 10! So funny-but everyone sweats it up, and they LOVE the boys playing. At the end, we had to go-after an hour and half, and said Paka Paka, Das Vadanya (Goodbye). They all chase us out, yelling 'You are my Friend', and shouts from behind some girls giggling, little girls: "I LOVE YOU!" We were all laughing, very funny. They all play bball like Hockey-if they get an Offensive rebound, instead of going back up to shoot, they dribble the ball out past half court to attack again. Very funny-they play a LOT of hockey here, no Basketball. But they all know Michael Jordan and Kobe, I point to them when they make a shot and say "Kobe" and they do a little dance. They asked for us to play again today, so will meet the gang down there at noon. Good to burn some of the sausage and cheese energy here.
That's a good one. The grub, we have figured out. We are mainly cooking in the apartment, and by 'we' I mean Glo. Cheeseburgers, tacos, fries, marinated chicken, on and on. So-it is pretty funny-they are skinny and trim here, I think because they don't have Glo. So, to feed the machine that is cooking right now in the kitchen as I type this, I go to the grocery store.
As you walk in (It IS a supercenter), you notice that everyone is leaving with bags the size of a small purse. Like maybe a single hot-dog and a bottle of beer, with a small ketchup packet on the side. Hmm. The checkout girl is SITTING on a stool, of all things, in front of this cute little conveyor belt for putting your item, or maybe items, on it. Like one bottle of Corona can fit on it, with your hot dog. The cart is very small, like a kids cart at Haggen, except taller.
So I go rolling in on an empty stomach. First mistake. So here goes. At first, I notice that you can't buy multiple beers. Just a single bottle. So I cover the bottom of the cart with 7 bottles of Corona rolling around loose. And then the Hot Dogs, which are singles-but the boys are riding on the sides of this pathetic little cart, and Karl shouts "I see BALL PARKS!" Ahh-in the freezer section, they sell a normal pack. Yes! Wait, are those Kit Kat candy bars frozen?!!
So it goes, like a super-shopping spree, until our cart is so loaded that the rolls, bread, candy, gum and cans of Pringles are falling off. There is no bottom rack.
By now, people are staring at us like we are naked. A hush falls through the whole store as I approach the checkout lines. There are three of them, and other shoppers are RUNNING to get there first, glancing back at us in terror. Oh boy. Here, the boys, my faithful companions, my support group that I could bark at every now and then just to seem normal, they desert me like a sinking ship. They feign interest in the frozen fish heads while I pilot this over-loaded cart in for slaughter. All three checkout girls avoid eye contact with me. Reminds me of Petersburg 8th grade dances, me with my tight Corduroys on.
Anyway-paying was a joke, a crowd gathered to watch, money was exchanged by onlookers, betting to see how much it would be, or if one of the bottles of beer would fall and break. I felt like laying my head on the checkout counter and passing out. Sweaty and hot-holy moly! I broke open one of the 8 single rolls of paper towels to wipe off with while she was ringing up. Several times things fell over, on the floor. "Who got the fireworks?!" I yell over to the frozen fish-head section. By the end, the poor checkout girl was standing up from her stool, let me tell you! Anyway-we figured it all out, everyone cheered when the last item rang up (I'm telling you, there was over 200 single items), and I am telling them in a weak voice "I should have gone to Costco?" and smile. There is no Costco, of course. They all shop daily, I now think. No one understands or laughs. I start threading my fingers through the plastic handles of the pile of bags, wait for the boys to come near to open BOTH doors so I can squeeze through without ripping a bag. The boys just shake their head's at me, and pretend they aren't with me until we round the corner, the crowd dispersing behind us. No doubt all will have a story tonight.
We limp home, bottles clanging, chocolate smooshing. Even the desk girl a the hotel stared, but she laughed. I think she has seen this before.
That's a good one. The grub, we have figured out. We are mainly cooking in the apartment, and by 'we' I mean Glo. Cheeseburgers, tacos, fries, marinated chicken, on and on. So-it is pretty funny-they are skinny and trim here, I think because they don't have Glo. So, to feed the machine that is cooking right now in the kitchen as I type this, I go to the grocery store.
As you walk in (It IS a supercenter), you notice that everyone is leaving with bags the size of a small purse. Like maybe a single hot-dog and a bottle of beer, with a small ketchup packet on the side. Hmm. The checkout girl is SITTING on a stool, of all things, in front of this cute little conveyor belt for putting your item, or maybe items, on it. Like one bottle of Corona can fit on it, with your hot dog. The cart is very small, like a kids cart at Haggen, except taller.
So I go rolling in on an empty stomach. First mistake. So here goes. At first, I notice that you can't buy multiple beers. Just a single bottle. So I cover the bottom of the cart with 7 bottles of Corona rolling around loose. And then the Hot Dogs, which are singles-but the boys are riding on the sides of this pathetic little cart, and Karl shouts "I see BALL PARKS!" Ahh-in the freezer section, they sell a normal pack. Yes! Wait, are those Kit Kat candy bars frozen?!!
So it goes, like a super-shopping spree, until our cart is so loaded that the rolls, bread, candy, gum and cans of Pringles are falling off. There is no bottom rack.
By now, people are staring at us like we are naked. A hush falls through the whole store as I approach the checkout lines. There are three of them, and other shoppers are RUNNING to get there first, glancing back at us in terror. Oh boy. Here, the boys, my faithful companions, my support group that I could bark at every now and then just to seem normal, they desert me like a sinking ship. They feign interest in the frozen fish heads while I pilot this over-loaded cart in for slaughter. All three checkout girls avoid eye contact with me. Reminds me of Petersburg 8th grade dances, me with my tight Corduroys on.
Anyway-paying was a joke, a crowd gathered to watch, money was exchanged by onlookers, betting to see how much it would be, or if one of the bottles of beer would fall and break. I felt like laying my head on the checkout counter and passing out. Sweaty and hot-holy moly! I broke open one of the 8 single rolls of paper towels to wipe off with while she was ringing up. Several times things fell over, on the floor. "Who got the fireworks?!" I yell over to the frozen fish-head section. By the end, the poor checkout girl was standing up from her stool, let me tell you! Anyway-we figured it all out, everyone cheered when the last item rang up (I'm telling you, there was over 200 single items), and I am telling them in a weak voice "I should have gone to Costco?" and smile. There is no Costco, of course. They all shop daily, I now think. No one understands or laughs. I start threading my fingers through the plastic handles of the pile of bags, wait for the boys to come near to open BOTH doors so I can squeeze through without ripping a bag. The boys just shake their head's at me, and pretend they aren't with me until we round the corner, the crowd dispersing behind us. No doubt all will have a story tonight.
We limp home, bottles clanging, chocolate smooshing. Even the desk girl a the hotel stared, but she laughed. I think she has seen this before.
Supercenter? I think not.
Who eats a single hot dog, anyway?
Who eats a single hot dog, anyway?
4 comments:
I get SO mad every time I read that Sylvi wants to be with you and CAN'T be. I know deep down it isn't anger that I feel, but incredible sadness for Sylvi, who wants to be with you with all her heart and can't because of seemingly stupid rules. Like you, I want the waiting and wanting to be over and the joy for all to begin. May 5th can't get here soon enough for me and knowing that you will be on the last leg of the journey. Soon...soon...tough is right, but it will happen. LOL, Susie (and Stanley)
What a great adventure for you and the boys! Playing basketball and connecting with all of those kids. It's amazing, isn't it that you can connect without even being able to say a word in their language.. kids are so wonderful. Are you getting any of this on video? As for the grocery store, I'm so glad you're able to have fun with that. I think it is SO valuable that you are able to get out there and get a feel for the culture that your sweet baby Sylvi came from. It will be so fun for her to read this blog someday! Jill Vail
Ok, so I find it funny JP, that you say the local kids play basketball like it is hockey. Coming from you that must really be something. Morning hoops is not the same without JP, the Sledgehammer, making his presence felt! I love the fact that the DeBoers are local celebrities. I enjoyed the shopping story. Hang in there every day is a day closer to having Sylvi with you forever.
-John and Kathi
The grocery store! That is classic. We saw the clerks sitting on stools in Germany too! What a concept. I'm sure you and your 200items were the Russian talk of the day. We're glad you're teaching the boys basketball, what about finding a football???
--Alex and Lynn
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