My first day back in the real world

While our trip to Ukraine was a riot (see previous post), I think I picked up some strange illness while we were there and then promptly passed it on to Anna and Trevor. Luckily, Anna didn't get the worst of it, because it was bad. It was like the worst parts of the flu and a cold, all combined into one disgusting mess. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that this was the sickest I've been in years. Trevor and I were out of commission for a week and a half. All we could do was lie in bed and watch movies—while Anna ran free. I know it doesn't sound that different from what we normally do :D, but this time we had fevers and terrible TB coughs. Trevor and I had to take turns stumbling out to the store to stock up on supplies, and all of the people at the store, at least when I was there, were giving me dirty looks every time I coughed. I tried to be inconspicuous, but when you've got TB, you've got TB.

Anyway, while these afflictions did give us some insight into what the world of Polish convenience food has to offer (bottled meatballs, for exmple), I was ready to get things back to normal. So yesterday I decided Anna and I would take a trip to Leclerc, the big hypermarket about 15 minutes from our apartment. We needed real food, so it was time for a big shop.

All went well until the check-out line. (This is frequently the site where I'm confronted with how little Polish I know. There always seems to be a problem with something I'm buying, and since I can't communicate all that well, I just end up looking like a fool, staring blankly when they ask me questions. At the end of it all, I usually just wave the product away and wonder why they won't let me buy it. On top of that is the added pressure of having to bag your own groceries, and people get quite antsy when you've already paid but you're still bagging away.) Anyway, while I'm frantically trying to bag my groceries and load up the stroller, there's a problem with the flashlight I'm trying to buy. This uncomfortable process involved the manager, assistant manager, twice, and lots of time waiting for these people to assist us. I basically had no idea what was going on, but I did tell the people in line that I was sorry (in Polish—that should give me some bonus points) and I hoped that would smooth things over. (Luckily, I had PLENTY of time to finish bagging the groceries. No problems there.)

So, once the flashlight was purchased, we were on our way. It was getting dark by this time, so I tried to hurry home as fast as I could. I guess I had taken for granted just how much water the stroller could hold (this time 12 liters plus the groceries), because when I went up one curb, one of the back wheels fell off. Awesome. I found the wheel and then pulled out my trusty/new flashlight and searched for other missing parts. I couldn't find any, so I put the wheel back on, only to have it fall off again after just a few feet. This is how we made it home. We didn't stroll, we hobbled. It took me twice as long, but we eventually made it. When I got close to our apartment, I called Trevor to see if he was home from a church meeting so he could help us up the stairs. Sadly, he was still at the church. Before I even got a chance to tell him about the stroller mishap I was currently struggling with, a friend in the branch got on the phone and asked me to cook the Break the Fast dinner next week for the branch. Wow. I would have been a little more excited about this had I not been essentially carrying a 100-pound stroller at the time I found out, but still. It's going to be quite a feat to cook for 30-40 Polish people. I'm excited to share some American food with them, but there's all this pressure to make it taste good, on a budget, and everything. Ah, what to make...what to make...

Anyway, for my first day back in the real world, it was rough times. Awkwardness at the grocery store, hobbling home with a handicapped stroller, and then being asked to cook for 40 people... I was ready to go home. Oh, but wait. I still had to figure out how to get the three-wheeled stroller up three flights of stairs. Ah, good times.

This whole experience called to mind a similar and much funnier story my sister Jen told, illustrating just what an adventure simple grocery shopping, without a car, can be.