Differences

Within walking distance of our house, there is a large, semi-open market.  A few days ago Pete, Rayna and I trudged through the snow to this market to get photos taken of Rayna and me for our embassy registration papers.  (Pete and the boys had done this the week before.)

The whole area is full of little booths with individuals selling their wares, sort of like a giant flea market all compacted together. Right next to someone selling parsley, eggs and honey, there was someone selling hair clips and accessories.  There are sellers of new clothing and sellers of used clothing.  At one table there could be popcorn, brooms and shoelaces. To me it all appeared very random and confusing -- and huge.  Down all kinds of little aisles and pathways we wended our way as Pete tried to recall which particular little spot held the photographer.  We got twisted around, came back outside, found another entrance, and plunged back in. 

It was all quite overwhelming to me:  it was crowded, cold, chaotic (apparently), full of unsmiling faces, and nothing was in English.  There was even a larger booth with raw meat -- just sitting out! And I was quite lost most of the time.

Throughout our little trek, I had 2 thoughts:

1.)  If I have to shop here often, I may not be thrilled about this.  The learning curve seems quite steep!  For someone who would prefer for her shopping experience to include nice wide aisles, products arranged by category and color (and categories clearly labeled with signs overhead), nice large carts, and perhaps some soft music (not to mention heat), this market is not ideal.  (I know, I know... how American am I?!)   How will I find the things I need, and then once I find them, how will I ever get out of this place?

and

2.)  Poor Pete!  He's probably all stressed out trying to figure out how to get us in and out of here, and remember where the photo booth is.  And he's probably feeling all the weight of having to provide for us and protect us in this strange land!  And since he'll be going back and forth to work and may run errands on the way, maybe he will end up shopping here more often and he won't like it either!

Well, we made it back home eventually, cold noses and toes and all.  Later that evening after the kids were in bed I asked him about what he was thinking in the market.  Here was his summation:

"Wasn't that place cool?!?"

What??  I thought he was joking... but no, he is not. 

As I'm beginning to realize more and more, some people really thrive in a new place, when there is a foreign language, foreign culture, and all the challenges associated therewith... and my husband is one of those people. 

When someone tries to explain to me how to take the kids on a field trip to a museum and it starts like this:

"Walk 2 blocks this way and then 2 blocks North, past the church, and then wait for the bus or trolley -- either 22 or 130 bus, or #3 or 10 trolley I think -- and then one of those should take you pretty close to the museum probably.  The costs are 2 or 3 lei per person, but ask about the kids (in Romanian or Russian, depending on the driver).  And be careful because if anything is in your pockets or if your purse is not sitting between your legs, things will get stolen..."

... I start to think: Maybe I'll just stay home.

But Pete, who has no idea which bus will take him to the embassy where he has a meeting, just vaults out of bed, puts on all his winter gear, and heads out, figuring he'll find a bus or something that will somehow get him there.  And even though his Romanian is weak to nil and his Russian is definitely nil, and no one will speak English to us, somehow he thinks that is just all part of the fun! 

So I am learning new things about my man.  Things I admire and don't quite understand... things I am thankful for.  This weak, nonadventurous woman is happy to have married someone so different than me in this area!



p.s. Today Pete and Colsen went back to the open market, so I asked them to get some pictures.  A woman apparently yelled at Pete quite vehemently, so he stopped -- although he had no idea what she was saying.  But at least he got these few first.

(Colsen was happy to find the "Home Depot" section!)