December 18: A Tale of Two Pairs of Shoes
Thursday, March 16th, 2006In the morning, Tina and I got up and got ready to head out. I mentioned to her that I wished I had a better hat for warmth; I’d underpacked a bit. Tina took out a traditional fur hat. She’d had it made to order, but it didn’t fit her right. She put it on my head, and I instantly loved it. She said, “it’s yours.” I was thrilled; I know those things are very expensive, much more expensive than a couple of jars of peanut butter and a video or two. I was also excited because I felt my “Ukrainian woman” look was complete.
We took a marshrutka (a minibus on a fixed route) to the train station. I bought my train tickets for the express train to Kyiv for Monday morning, and an overnight train back to Khmelnytsky arriving Thursday morning.
By the time we finished that task, it was nearly 11:00 am. and I was pretty hungry. Tina pointed out that a new pizza restaurant had opened up near the train station since I’d left. That sounded good to me.
I’m still trying to figure out how it’s possible that so many pizza restaurants can have nearly identical food and formats, yet have different names. Does one owner open each restaurant under a different name for tax purposes? Or are people allowed to copy an original idea without a team of lawyers on their back like in America?
Anyway, we walked in and I saw the familiar faux marble counters, salads, pizzas, and crepes. Tina and I decided to split a small pizza, and we each got a salad. When I say “salad” here, I’m not talking about lettuce and veggies. I’m talking about potatoes and meat, chicken, or fish covered in mayonnaise, or I’m talking about marinated vegetables like eggplant or mushrooms. The closest one can come to an American salad at a Ukrainian restaurant is marinated chopped tomatoes and cucumbers without the lettuce. To be honest, though, when I’m in Ukraine I don’t miss the American variant too much.
After brunch, we got on a trolleybus to the local bazaar. We changed money at a stand run by two ladies Tina knows; they give a good exchange rate. Still, the exchange rate had gone down from my last time there, from 5.33 gryvnias to the dollar to 5.10. Ugh. The only other shock was seeing that all of the bills had been redesigned. Tina had completely forgotten about that.
I was on the hunt for new winter boots. It had been over two years since I’d bought the last pair of casual winter boots, also in Khmelnytsky. The zipper handle had been broken for as long as I could remember and my American shoe repair shop (yes, they still exist) couldn’t fix it. Then, I found the seams were coming apart at the heel. To me, it was time for a new pair.
As a courtesy, I tried on a pair on the road to the main bazaar. I took off my shoe and stood on the typical piece of cardboard with the new shoe. Even though the price was great (65 gryvnias, about 12 bucks), the feeling wasn’t. And I’ve learned that when it comes to buying shoes, it’s better for me to spend more and be comfortable than to go cheap and have sore feet.
Tina and I walked on to Proskurivska, the main walking street in Khmelnytsky. Every time I see this street, there is something new on it. And every time there’s a new store, I end up spending a lot of money. This time was no different. There is now a Monarch shoe store on Proskurivska. I’m not sure where Monarch is from, but I’ve bought that brand of shoes before in Kyiv and I really like the quality. I tried on a few pairs of boots (indoors, no cardboard) before I found, with Tina’s help, a pair that felt right. It wasn’t cheap (about 80 dollars), and the boot legs are still a little high for me (I’ll have to get boot-cut jeans to wear with it for my next trip), but overall I was happy.
Tina agreed to take the old boots and find a good home for them. Later, she gave them to a young Ukrainian friend of hers who only had one pair of boots. The way Tina described her friend’s reaction to the gift, I felt like they were manna from heaven for her. I felt humbled by how lucky I was to be able to buy an 80-dollar pair of shoes without thinking too much about it, and I felt grateful that my overwillingness to discard something old had had a positive result for someone else.
After shopping and stopping for a beer at another new bar on Proscurivska, Tina and I found our way (with some help from the neighbors) to her friend Anya’s apartment. Anya’s mother made the best blini (Russian pancakes) I’ve ever had in my life. We had them with herring, sour cream, or jam. Her mother said to make them right takes hours as one mixes and remixes the dough. Amazing. Tina also helped the Anya’s daughter Sasha make a poster painting of the family dog, Vera. It was a nice way to end the day.
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