Wintry Weather and a Hot Mug of Grog

Last Friday we had our first snow. It was too warm to stick to the roads, which was great, and just a dusting on the ground. It felt very seasonable and was nice to see. I'd hate to see what it's like if the snow piled up on the roads because people didn't improve their driving at all. If anything it was worse because the pedestrians walked in the street more than usual to avoid walking in the snow.

At any rate, the snow was gone by Saturday morning and Stephanie and I headed out to do some shopping. We started by visiting a craft fair at the Hyatt, which was nice, but we didn't buy much. Just a couple of ornaments for our tree and a freshly woven bread basket.

We saw a lot of other things that we liked, but decided to wait and see if we can find the same items elsewhere during our time here. It was at least nice to get some ideas.

Then we picked up some fruit a the bazaar and headed down to the wholesale area near the train station to restock on beer and get some apple juice for making cider. Lo and behold, the three boys who followed us around last time were there loitering in front of the store. I guess it's their thing to 'help' people and then charge them for it.

This time, they told us there was a better place to get beer and wanted to show us. I asked straight out if we had to pay for this service and they said no, so we went out of curiosity. Of course, the prices were higher at the suggested locale and the selection no better, so I declined and went back to the place we were before. Our unshakable entourage followed along doggedly.

On the way, I tried to explain to the kid that we don't need help, that Americans like to do things for themselves. It didn't take. When we got to our regular shop I started talking with the guy and asking about the beers and their prices and the kid kept interjecting. I think by that point I had already shown myself quite capable of negotiating beer purchases in Russian, but he persisted.

We ended up with a deal we liked and started carrying the beer out to the car. The kid then had the nerve to ask for money. I told him no, that I didn't ask for help and I had already told him we weren't going to pay. But that didn't deter him because every time we walked past with a case of beer, he asked if we wanted help - despite the fact that the 30 feet of walking between the store and our car was clearly not a problem. His friends seemed to have got the point some time before this, but this kid didn't go away until we had finished.

From there we went about getting the apple juice and on the way found fresh mushrooms and something that looked like the Italian dessert they call 'lobster tails' - basically a rich cream filled pastry shaped like a fluffy cannoli. It was both unexpected and yummy.

No one drank the beer, but the cider was a big hit when we had a few folks over for Christmas cookies and such on Sunday. It's always nice sharing our decorations and what not. The gingerbread house went over well too. All in all it was a great weekend.

This week has been rather busy at work as we have a team from the Overseas Building Office in town to work with us on some construction work that we're doing. It's interesting stuff and I find I really like planning and executing the various projects, but visits take a lot of time away from day to day business, which continues to be very busy.

Tonight we went out to dinner with the team at a local restaurant where I found grog on the menu. When I see grog I think cave man drinking a foully alcoholic drink from a giant stone mug. So of course I ordered it. It turns out that grog is a rather pleasant drink with rum and fruit and cloves. It was perfect with the wintry weather.

On the way home, I was negotiating a taxi for our visitors when the cops started freaking out and blowing their whistles and waving their lighted sticks (we call them 'padjalusta sticks' -padjalusta means 'please' in Russian). The road cleared of cars almost instantly - which was amazing in itself.

The nearest cop started yelling at the taxi driver so I wrapped things up and sent them on their way. Then I got to see the president's motorcade flash by at autobahn speed - a group of about 10 cars just flying willy-nilly down the main street. Apparently, this is the only way he travels. I can only assume he was on his way home from the palace. But that's just another day in Dushanbe.