HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
So there's a sweet old lady named Valya across the landing from me. About a month ago we engaged in a giving war because I had decided to make chocolate chip cookies. Don't laugh.
Anyway, I had no baking soda, and so went to her place to ask to borrow some. I got the same reaction I had gotten from Valentina, the sweet old lady (Ukraine has a lot of sweet old ladies) that I buy bread from. When I was buying vanilla from her, she asked:
"Why do you need it?"
"I am making cookies."
"By yourself?" (Look of sweet old lady doubt)
"By myself."
"Good luck." (Another look of sweet old lady doubt, followed by wondering if she needed to but the firefighters on standby)
Valya gave me the baking soda, then, deciding I was too skinny, and gave me a plate of kasha (boiled buckwheat slatherd with butter). I already had dinner in mind (chicken and mashed potatoes) but took the kasha with the intention of throwing it out because I have found it's impossible to refuse food from sweet old ladies without offending them. While the cookies were baking, though, I got hungry and tried the kasha, found it to be delicious and ate the whole bowl. To thank Valya for her kindness, I brought her a batch of cookies.
Later that evening, there was a knock on my door. Her son was at the door, bearing the plate the cookies came on, now filled with walnuts. He also handed me a bag of cucumbers and a jar of compote (syrupy juice). Apparently Valya and I are now in a giving war.
The war has changed from one of sustenence, though, to one for my soul. Lately, when we've been talking on the landing, the conversations have been about God. Valya is a devout Christian--the kind that stands out in the street in the snow trying to convert people. She's been telling me a lot about Christ, and I've been attentively listening (despite having a religion degree from a Methodist school) because A) she's a sweet old lady and B) it's good Russian practice.
But yesterday, as she was again telling me about Christ, she said that she wanted two of her friends who spoke English to come over and talk to me, and when would I be free? I told her that I enjoyed her company and prefered talking to her. She said they could explain Christianity better to me in my own language, and when was I free?
I sighed and told her Sunday. I was free and it was fitting.
Today she told me they'd be there at 6:00 PM.
I wanted to bake cookies, and now missionaries are coming over. Huh.