Month: November 2010

  • zahar

    Little family
    We load cases of flour amd cooking oil onto an old gurney. I'm on the monthly trip with the American Women's Club to help stock the Ronald McDonald House Foundation kitchen. I'm hoping the flat of sugar and tea somehow offer a tiny bit of comfort to families staying with their children while they undergo treatment at Moscow's largest cancer clinic.

    A nurses carries a 1950's-looking syringe in the air as she walks into a room. After we stock the kitchen, the AWC group distributes little gifts to the kids, juice boxes and candies and puzzles and bubbles–a playful distraction from the pain and boredom that cancer treatment looks like. A student studying in the hall, a baseball cap over his shaved head, after some prodding, shyly reads his English homework to me, "I. like. to. swim." Another teenage patient sits in the hall reading Pushkin.

    The little guy in the photo above, Zahar, had a six inch incision up the back of his head where, a month ago, they removed a brain tumor. The tumor had affected his ability to learn to walk. Like most parents with kids in this clinic, the mom left her job so she could stay in the hospital with the baby. The papa says Zahar is already taking steps now. 

    Some of the newer chemotherapy medicines these kids need aren't provided by the state and must be paid for by families themselves. Apparently, cancer cures aren't free.

    In the kitchen, a mom is cooking potatoes in oil. The families, biding their time in the clinic, have enough toys and magazines. I'm sure you are already contributing wherever you are, however you can. In the CLO office, I'm putting some money in the plastic container that goes directly to buy medicine and equipment for children at this clinic in Moscow. Let's keep it up. This month, a teeny boy in tights had brain surgery and then learned to walk.

    If you are so inclined, as one amazing commenter was, you can donate by paypal at the Nastenka website, a foundation that supports the children's oncology clinic.

  • dinner and a show

    Weekends we usually take the car out to Metro, sort of a cross between Costco and Safeway, before they started remodeling the Safeways to make them Whole Foods-esque. The sign at the door says children under age ten, nyet, but everyone brings their kids anyway. We go because they have good produce and the prices are pretty good, or maybe for the real Russian atmosphere.

    They usually have samples out, a la Costco. One time they were giving away mijiotos and champagne! Today they were giving away espressos. The pretty girl, as they always are here, working the little booth was making one tiny espresso at a time, excruciatingly slowly. Peter and I had a race to see if he made it to the front of front of the fish counter before I made it to the front of the free espresso line. He won and I skipped the espresso.

    I have never gotten out of Metro able to buy everything in my cart. I've put back sugar because I didn't take enough packages, fruit because I didn't weigh it and wine because it wasn't priced. Today they wouldn't let me buy the fancy Koushmikov tea. "It's not in the system," the clerk said. So he took my pretty canister of tea and put it back on the shelf to display it for the next person who won't be allowed to buy it.

    Then the checker made us wait ten minutes so we could watch her fight with the guy who had packaged our whole salmon.

    Checker: "Worker! You can't label this trout if it's salmon!"
    Fish counter guy: "They are the same price, I've worked here for four years and we always use the term trout and salmon interchangeably."
    Checker:  "Worker! That's like saying you and I are the same thing and you know that's not true."

    She was so mean to him. Or I dunno, maybe she was flirting with him. The $40 Christmas tree lights aren't much of a bargain, but admission to Metro is always free.