All Creature Comforts Great and Small-Part One

Culture Shock

We thought we knew everything we needed to know about functioning as a family based on hosting the girls in December of 2009. Now we see why we’re required to live in their country for a while. Of course we’re discovering more and more things about them but we are also discovering things about ourselves. We’ll have a much deeper understanding of the struggles they’ll have adapting to our culture. It’s hard when you spend the entire day feeling like an idiot and wishing people could know what kind of person lies beyond the language barrier.

The first Monday we were here, the feeling of being an outsider hit me like a ton of bricks and I had to fight depression for the next day and a half. I emailed my friend Jean, who lived in Europe for many years, and warned that that might happen. She sent lots of words of empathy and encouragement, which helped tremendously.

As we begin our second week with the girls we’ve adapted fairly well and can find the humor in our differences. This is the first installment in a series recounting the adjustment to our new living circumstances.

I hope you enjoy this, especially if you’ve ever traveled overseas. Not ever having been fond of roughing it, I’ve discovered I truly am a spoiled American.

These Are the Towels That Try Men’s Souls

Every time I’m ready to get in the shower I find myself standing, staring, and sighing, knowing that this will not be the satisfying experience it is at home. Showers here are sort of open with only a token shower curtain, a mere nod to the real thing. The showerhead is handheld and in our little guesthouse the hot water heater provides just about enough for one and a half somewhat hot showers. If you’re lucky enough to be the first, you have to be careful about possible scalding. If you are the second, you’re more likely to get frostbite. I made this discovery on our first morning in the guesthouse since I was unlucky shower number two.

The bathroom is large enough to hold an extra bed, a small Russian washing machine (more on that later), a toilet, a sink, and the dreaded shower. The room smells a little like a cat box, which is somewhat disconcerting since none of us are cats and we don’t seem to have one living with us. There are porous rubber mats on the floor because of the inevitable water all over the place. Before we left I wondered why it was recommended that we bring filp-flops for showering and now I completely understand.

To top off these unsatisfactory bathing episodes we have been given what we laughingly call “towels” with which to dry ourselves. David fondly refers to his as the “dish towel.” What they lack in size they more than make up for in a total absence of absorbency. At least the stiff laundry tags are almost as big as the “towels” themselves.

I have learned that to get the best possible shower encounter I must don my flip-flops, turn on the shower—timed precisely with the moment of entry—spray water all over myself and the room, turn the water off, apply shampoo, spray water all over myself and the room, turn the water off, apply conditioner, and so on.  It’s sort of the old “rinse, lather, repeat” routine with a twist made even more challenging by the fact that the hot and cold are on opposite sides here. 

Once the shower is over I grab for my “towel” and dry off as much of myself as possible accepting the fact that I will then only go through the motions of drying off the rest of me. I wrap my soaking wet head in the soaking wet “towel,” put on my robe, which sticks to my wet skin and switch to my dry slippers. Invariably I will have forgotten something making it necessary to walk over one of the porous rubber mats which makes a squish, squish sound as I go.

With the shower ordeal now concluded I look ahead to drying my hair and using my flatiron with the only outlet in the bathroom conveniently located about a foot away from being able to see my reflection in the mirror.   

The Vashing Machinsky

While we are very fortunate to have a washing machine and my friend, Jean warned me it would be small, I did not anticipate that the instructions would all be in Russian.

Fortunately, Baiba takes Russian in school so we’ve been able to make hit and miss guesses as how to use it. The first time we did an entire load with no water. The second time I set if for a spin cycle that if given a chance would have catapulted all of the contents to Mars. The third time Agnese put in one item and an entire packet of soap re-creating our own I Love Lucy episode with soap bubbles and water all over the aforementioned bathroom. 

I dearly miss my dryer and dryer sheets too. Once the laundry is done, if it’s raining, which it has been the majority of the time here, the laundry has to be strewn all over the house including draping heavier fabrics on the two heat vents that we have. The real treat is when we get to put on our stiff as boards underwear and socks. Those babies are there to stay.

Next installment: Further bathroom woes, and heating a home primarily with a fireplace