Ponytails and Paradise: The Adventure Continues

The first few days were pretty much a ram-shackled mess of trying to change our day for night, unpacking, and finding things to eat because Shane’s truck had been moved to a company office while he was in the States and we couldn’t get to any grocery stores.

Luckily one of the other American families was just headed out to renew their visas back home in Idaho, so they dropped off their extra food and took Shane on a late grocery run where he bought the last box of milk and the last loaf of bread there. But it was something, and we were grateful.

Unpacking was moving along. The girls were happily reunited with their meager toy collection. I’m happy to report my casserole dish made the trip safely. Along with my sewing machine. Yes, I brought it with me. As I was starting to get to the bottom of our luggage pile, I soon realized that we were still missing a piece of luggage. It was one of the most important ones, too: The FOOD bag. Oh, yes, somehow we had left Moscow without the bag containing all my spices, baking powder, peanut butter, Shane’s beloved Ranch mix—everything. It might not seem so bad, but the grocery stores don’t even carry VANILLA here. One of the Americans found powdered vanilla in one of the bigger cities, which technically, the Company won’t even let us drive to. So, no vanilla, no cinnamon, no Italian seasoning, chilli powder, seasoned salt, zilch, nada—A deathly blow to my amateur cooker’s heart.

One of the Russian interpreters (and HR personnel), who also helps with all our travel plans, tried to get the airport to just deliver the suitcase to the company office in Moscow, but it was a no-go. Shane would have to appear, in person, to claim it. That meant another trip back to Moscow. There just happened to be a new couple flying in to Moscow a couple of days later, so it was determined that Shane would take that van shuttle to Moscow when it went to pick them up. We had a couple of days to settle in a little more before he left, and Shane was able to pick up some groceries so I could feed the girls until he got back.

About 5 PM the night Shane was supposed to leave, the power went out. Shane told me it was typical for the power to flicker, or occasionally go off for an hour or two. No worries, he said, it will probably be on by morning. The van driver pounded on our door that night at midnight (June 7^th). After a quick goodbye kiss, Shane walked out into the night, and then I was alone.

I went back to bed, determined to be prepared to tackle the next day. When I awoke, I went to the kitchen to cook some eggs—one meal I was confident I could cook, and confident that the girls would eat. But lo and behold—still no power. Of all days for the power to be out, it would be the one where I was completely alone with very few meals I could cook without power. For breakfast, we ate some Russian cold cereal with boxed milk.

I spent the morning pouring through my Russian phrase book trying to piece together some fragment of a sentence to find out about the power. I noticed a group of people by the office and the girls were momentarily distracted, so I slipped out to go ask. Tatiana, the farm administrator, didn’t even bother to try to understand my butchered Russian. She called an interpreter. You almost need another interpreter to understand the interpreter’s heavily-accented English. I think he said something about them working on it, and it would be fixed in about an hour. I breathed a sigh of relief—maybe it would be on in time to cook something for lunch.

About an hour later, 3 Russians came and started banging and drilling in the attic. Slightly confused about how this would fix my power, I just went about trying to entertain the girls. Soon they left and still nothing. Our growling stomachs told us that it was past lunchtime. No peanut butter and jam sandwiches since the peanut butter was in the LOST bag. No stove top meals, no microwave rescues. I wasn’t even sure when the power would resume, so I had restricted the girls and myself from opening the fridge or freezer doors unless it was dire. Even then, it was only cracked a little, and then quickly closed. I didn’t want the food that Shane had just bought to spoil, so I tried to conserve as much of the coolness of the fridge. That cut even further into our meal options. The bread, milk, juice, jam – all in the fridge. I think we ate some crackers from the cupboard for lunch.

I had no internet, so I couldn’t Skype Shane for help, or anyone else. The girls were getting restless, even after a walk outside to explore. So I chanced using some of the battery of my computer so the girls could watch a movie. It provided some diversion to our hunger. Soon I had to get a new bottle for Echo. I opened the fridge door, and groaned when I could feel that the temperature in the fridge matched the temperature of the room. I didn’t want to check the freezer and lose what coolness I had in there either. I grabbed a loaf of bread and some juice, and shut the door to my now-warm fridge.

Dinnertime was looming and still no power. I gave the girls more juice and crackers, and we started another movie. A little after 5, the lights flickered and turned on. I breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly put a pan on the stove to boil some water before it went out again.

Then the girls and I had dinner, and went to bed. Shane got home around Midnight that night with our last piece of luggage. A 24-hour trip, with about 18 hours of it sitting in a van, all for one suitcase. But we were excited to get it, and even more happy for the power to be on and our Dad to be back.

Some pictures of the first few days: