Sherpa

I had 2 packages at the post office. When you have a package, they send you a slip so you know it's there. You show up with your passport to claim it. The post office is several blocks down the street. It was a nice day so I decided to walk. I couldn't find the post office at first, so I walked in circles for a bit. Once I found it, I realized the slip I needed to claim my package was at school. So I walked back.

I returned to the post office an hour later to find there were 10 minutes left in their afternoon break. Breaks are very serious in Russia. There is no evading someone's scheduled break. The package lady put the boxes on a scale and said something. I thought she was asking for money - if you don't pick up your mail right away, they charge you for storage, and I was running a few days late - so I pulled out my wallet, and she laughed. After some pantomime I was able to understand that she was reciting the weight so I knew it matched the customs form and that the package had not been disturbed in transit.

Concerned about the weight of the boxes, she tied string around them so they'd be easier to carry. Balancing both in my arms, I found them awkward, not because of weight so much as my short arms. I walked back to school, recieving many odd stares. I don't think women normally carry anything here. Probably not boxes that reach above their head.

Excited to be close to the school, I crossed the street at a green pedestrian light, not really looking around since I had the right of way - to the great fury of a Russian fire truck barreling down the road (honking when it saw me but not making any noise before that).

My parents, bless them, sent us enough red pens for the entire school year, in addition to any items mentioned in the "Teacher Handbook" that I had not packed, including extra nylons and a scientific calculator. Plus some very cool Pioneer keychains to hand out to my students. All the essentials of life...