I pray that posting this on Facebook, which we now know exploits every bit of our personal information for devious purposes, won't spur the police to burst into my bedroom at three in the morning, or at any time actually, but last weekend my husband and I spent several hours in close association with actual Russians. They were here in South Freeport for ten days, ostensibly to study our education system but that could have been just their cover.
There were three of them, all female, one in her fifties presenting herself as a teacher and the other two posing as high school students. They spoke English, although one of the girls barely spoke and kept her eyes on her cell phone all evening, texting constantly to God knows who. Putin? Trump? Jared Kushner? Hillary Clinton? Your guess is as good as mine.
Reluctant to incriminate who hosted the foreigners, I won't divulge where this meeting transpired. Still, I think it's safe to declare the dinner delicious, although the texting girl ate nothing but a few morsels of roasted potatoes. (Did she fear being poisoned or was she just anorexic? Hard to tell.)
I asked the "teacher" what she thinks of Putin, and she replied, "He is very good in his job." She offered no more. I then asked if she likes Trump, and she just shrugged and ate a bite of pork loin. The most interesting facts that surfaced were that in Russia the typical oncologist earned $100 a month a few years ago but now earns $300 a month, and an average pair of ordinary blue jeans costs $200, making me conclude that few, if any, children of Russian oncologists wear jeans.
There was a flurry of activity towards the end of the evening when one of the guests spilled a glass of red wine and everyone rushed to remove all the dishes and glasses from the white tablecloth, an heirloom from France, so the hostess could get it into the washing machine. Anything could have happened during that frenetic time.
The two younger Russians vowed to return and spend all next year in our little village. Who knows why. I'm wondering if upon their return we will all be forced to wear those fur hats.
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| Pretty soon we'll all be wearing these. |
Reluctant to incriminate who hosted the foreigners, I won't divulge where this meeting transpired. Still, I think it's safe to declare the dinner delicious, although the texting girl ate nothing but a few morsels of roasted potatoes. (Did she fear being poisoned or was she just anorexic? Hard to tell.)
I asked the "teacher" what she thinks of Putin, and she replied, "He is very good in his job." She offered no more. I then asked if she likes Trump, and she just shrugged and ate a bite of pork loin. The most interesting facts that surfaced were that in Russia the typical oncologist earned $100 a month a few years ago but now earns $300 a month, and an average pair of ordinary blue jeans costs $200, making me conclude that few, if any, children of Russian oncologists wear jeans.
There was a flurry of activity towards the end of the evening when one of the guests spilled a glass of red wine and everyone rushed to remove all the dishes and glasses from the white tablecloth, an heirloom from France, so the hostess could get it into the washing machine. Anything could have happened during that frenetic time.
The two younger Russians vowed to return and spend all next year in our little village. Who knows why. I'm wondering if upon their return we will all be forced to wear those fur hats.
I learned one additional thing during the course of the evening which is that fingernails are central to fashion sense in Russia
ReplyDeleteI learned one additional thing during the course of the evening which is that fingernails are central to fashion sense in Russia
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