There is something to be said for the medical system in America. I had never questioned things like prescriptions, insurance, or actual medicine until I moved here. Recently I have had many reasons to go to my local Apteka ( drugstore), and the "pharmacist" there has gotten quite acquainted with me. She is always entertained by my poor attempts at describing my ailments. This store is great- everything is under lock and key, but nothing in the store costs more than 10 dollars. No prescriptions are needed, just a convincing cough, sunburn, or some other visible symptom.
You can get ANYTHING there, but my Russian isn't good enough to know exactly what it is that I am getting. So the process for me is always an adventure. I walk in and do my best charades impression to describe my problem. My latest need was quite funny. I spent all day at a water park and got myself quite burned. Let me digress for a moment and tell you a little about this water park. You walked in to the most beautifully landscaped piece of land in this country. There were palm trees, plush grass, and pool boys that would get you any kind of drink you could imagine. It felt like you were not in this country anymore. It was amazing. There were slides, and more slides, and three pools. I mean, it was just like a place in America- only better. It was designed so that if you never wanted to leave your chair, you didn't have to. And I didn't plan on getting up at all! I got to people watch all day, and it made for some very interesting observations on this culture. A few things, and then I promise I'll get back to my original story.
1. People didn't care what kind of body they had- they were at the pool to get tan and beat the heat, so no matter what- short, tall, old, young, fat, skinny- they were going to accomplish that purpose. There were no cover-ups or attempts at hiding the parts of their bodies that they didn't love. It was kind of nice- people just wore swimsuits, because they were at the pool. The body image side of that was really cool.
2. With that however, came an interesting phenomenon which said that the fewer clothes you wore, the better things would be. I only thought that American women didn't wear many clothes. Here, I think the goal is to wear the most clothes while showing the most skin. This sounds a little counter productive, and let me promise you, it was!! They had the most intricately designed bathing suits, that showed EVERYTHING that God surely didn't intend to show and covered every part of the body that normal people show to the world every day!
3. The men- oh the men! Just a public service announcement for any of you that were wondering... THE SPEEDO IS NOT IN!!! There is nothing fashionable at all about this tiny piece of fabric. It is NOT flattering or attractive, and there is NO way it can be comfortable! You're welcome ladies- if I even saved one man from wearing that hideous thing, it was a good deed.
4. I was sitting in the pool, with some of my friends, when these two women came up to me. They spoke very quickly, and after getting them to repeat themselves two times, I finally figured out that they wanted me to baby sit their kid so that they could go to the "adult" pool. Now, let me be clear- I DIDN'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE FROM ADAM!! I didn't really say anything; I just sat there looking incredulous, so I guess they assumed that I was okay with it. I was not!! I got stuck watching that bad little girl for almost an hour. I was so frustrated!
Okay, back to my story. I was VERY sunburned. I've never gotten burned quite so badly. So I walked into the store and began to explain. After several failed attempts, I just pulled back my shirt sleeve to reveal my hot pink skin. She was horrified- and immediately began pulling stuff off of those locked shelves. After about 15 minutes, the counter was covered with things that were supposed to cure my ailing skin. All I really wanted was some aloe, but the "pharmacist" strongly disagreed with my solution. Instead, I left with a cream, a spray, and a pill- all of which were supposed to make me instantly better.
Haha! I should have known better. I tried the cream- and it didn't do much, so I tried the spray! This stuff is amazing- it foams all over you and stays put until you wash it off- but it does relieve the burning. I got curious as to why it took away the sting so fast, so I translated the back of the can so that I could GOOGLE the ingredients. Now, for my sweet dad's sake, I wont tell you what I found out, but I will tell you that I'm glad I'm in a foreign country, because in America you are not allowed to buy this stuff! haha. Needless to say, I'm not using that stuff anymore, but man, it was good while it lasted!
Just a sidenote before I leave, my fruit lady suggested something that she guaranteed would work. I was telling her my problem and she asked me to wait just a second. She walked around the corner and began to pick some weeds. I thought they were weeds until she brought them back... Apparently, her fix for a sunburn is marijuana! Ahhh... Just another day!

Baseball, Doctors, and Apricot Pie

Some days I go to sleep and wonder how things can get any crazier, or how something can make me laugh any harder than something did the previous day, and each morning I wake up and realize that this is now the life I live- and that things will continue to surprise and amaze me throughout my two years.
I had an interesting day on Tuesday. I havent been feeling well, so I decided it was time to go to the doctor. Now, I'm not picky about most things, but I do have a standard in my head for how I expect medical treatment to be. I guess I have just been spoiled in the past. I went to the "American" clinic- it can be called this because there is an American doctor who consults. She doesnt actually see patients; in fact, it is against the law for her to do so. So I was examined by Vitally, a guy who looked younger than me and who didnt know important things, like how to take my blood pressure or where my lymph nodes were. I figured things werent going to go too smoothly when he had trouble with the blood presure machine. I kindly showed him how to do it, and things went on from there. He determined that I had both strep throat and a sinus infection and decided that I was close to getting an ear infection. I didnt know they could tell when someone was close to getting an ear infection, but he did, and decided to clean out my ears to prevent it. Well, I've had this done once before, and the process while not extremely comfortable, was successful. This time, it was unlike anything I've ever been a part of. He got a syringe (one that hadnt been cleaned since the patient before- I could see stuff both on it and in it) and filled it with water and then attempted to squirt it in my ear. Well, luckily for me, none of it went into my ear. Instead, it completely covered my shirt. He repeated this process several times (about 10) until he decided that it just wasnt working. I'll spare you the details, but He then tried to dig it out of my ear with something sharp. I stopped him pretty quickly- I decided to take my chances with the ear infection. I figured the odds of surviving that were better than those of the "procedure" he was performing!
Well, after picking up my medicine from a local drugstore - I love that prescriptions arent needed here, I went to a 7-8 yr old baseball game. I wouldnt have gone except that I had promised some of my young teammates that I would be there. So off I went, with my preconceived notions about baseball. From first glances it had every appearance of a baseball game. There was a diamond, some balls, and little kids dressed in uniforms that copied the Major league teams in the States. Oh, but as the game began, I found some striking differences. First, most of these kids were local, and had grown up not on the baseball field, but on the soccer pitch; so they had no idea what they were getting in to. So instead of catching balls, child after child went to kicking the ball. One little one even tried to head it, but after he was carried off the field, no one else tried that. There were also some interesting rules. THe uniforms didnt have to match, as long as the team name was on it, but each child had to wear the same hat- and if they didnt have a hat on they were not allowed to play. It was all in all a very interesting dynamic. Thrown in were parents from both the Soviet Union and the US and things just kept getting better and better. The American parents grew up around this sport, and couldnt understand why the local kids couldnt get it, and the local parents were confused as to why people would want to play this sport when there were other, "better" options, such as badmitton or soccer. It was great. I dont think I am going to miss a game from here on out.
The end to this day was a package that was waiting at my door. Now, my mail goes not to my house but to the post office, so I knew it had to have been something that was dropped off. I was a little worried though; not knowing what was in it was a bit scary. I must confess that I had visions of bombs or dead animals- things that my creative little mind was convinced would be there. Instead it was a pie. I was thrilled! A Pie! I love pie- and what better after a baseball game? Well, I dug my fork into it and was ready for an apple or even a peach to come out. Instead, it was an apricot pie, with pomegranate juice in it. Now, I dont know if you have had this before, but if you havent I dont reccommend you trying it. I think there is a reason my grandmother never made this one! Anyway, it was a nice gesture, and I happily ate that thing. I dont think I'll eat another one though.