Well I’m in my last days before leaving for camp in Uzhgorod.  You ought to know that I’ll be a little internet inaccessible.  I’ve been shopping for materials and supplies, and it makes me long for Walmart.  Was it Faith who quoted to me, “If you can’t find it at Walmart, you probably don’t need it.”  They have a store here called, “Metro” and it’s as close to Walmart as I’m going to get in Kyiv.
So I wasn’t able to find plastic baseball bats, but I bought some toy samurai swords instead.  I could find watercolor paints, but no brushes.  That should make for an interesting craft project.    
Of course this means I’ll need to shop instead in the open market.  I was just hoping for finding everything at one place.  But I really love the open market system. (The Russian word is “REE-nok”)   As a pretty strict rule, unless I’m at Best Buy, I hate shopping.  You know the feeling (if you’re a guy) when you’ve been in a store for almost an entire hour, you feel like if you don’t get out soon, your head will implode or something.  
It’s different in the open market.  There are no slick ad campaigns and giant pictures of super models daring you to be different, just like everyone else.  You’re not force fed the latest hits from the artists of today.  
The outdoor market consists of individual kiosks, where people sell their stuff.  In the open market, you’re a human being pit against other human beings in a quest for that singular toilet plunger or box of matches.  In the O.M. you’re buying regular things from regular people.  If you don’t like the price, you look for another stall where they’re selling it cheaper.  Or, if you’re a haggler (I’m not), you can try to talk the price down.  
Prices are better for food in the open market, and your produce and bread will be fresher to boot.  I’m not sure about other stuff, but I imagine it’s cheaper in the Metro.  Still, when I buy that cheese grater, I’ll get it in the O.M.  The thing about shopping the market, is that you’re helping “the little guy.”  Often the saleslady is a “babushka” trying to supplement her meager pension.  For an American to buy a half kilo of her homemade carrot salad helps us both out on different levels.  And you can’t beat the price at sixty cents a pound.  
Of course there are certain things I wouldn’t buy in the open market.  Meat for example, or fish fresh off the stack.  I wouldn’t buy a laptop off the street, though I could  get DVDs that way, new movies in two languages for $5.  Oh but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

¶ 11:44 AM

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