My Taxi-ride Into Organized Chaos

My first year in Skopje, I rode in taxi's pretty much every day. Just enough to be scared spitless about having to drive myself one day. Driving in Skopje is, as I affectionately like to refer to it, "Organized Chaos."

One colleague advised me early on that I needed to drive offensively rather than defensively. At the time that didn't make sense to me, but after countless times of sitting in the middle of an intersection waiting for someone to slow up long enough for me to turn left, I get it. You just gotta go for it and force your way at times. There's nothing like the feeling of driving by the seat of your pants!

When a colleague went on HA I was assigned their car to drive for the year. After a year of close calls in a taxi I put foot to pedal with extreme trepidation. Wouldn't you know, but on the second day I got a ticket. According to the policeman I'd turned right over a double white line. Every time I pass that same intersection to this day I note the fact that the line is dashed and that the ticket wasn't deserved. But I digress...

Now that I'm in to my sixth year here, I've gotten really good at parallel parking, driving within inches of parked cars crowding a barely two-lane road, and finding my turn-window and going for it. Now-days I'm more likely to take a taxi because of the limited parking situation by my apartment building. Thus, in five years there's been lots of scary near misses, including one "bump" with another taxi , but today's combined ride was one to remember.

First, the taxi was fairly old so that I was wondering if it'd be even up for the drive across town. But as I found, people may not have a lot here, but what they have they take care of. Even the really old things are maintenanced with care.

Money is tight, so taxi's also tend to drive with as little petrol as needed, yet amazingly I've never been in a taxi that ran out of gas... until today... well, almost... The taxi chug-a-lugged with the gas guage incomprehensively well below the "E" and yet it made it to my destination.

Then there was the near-miss at the intersection. The taxi was full on into the intersection waiting for his chance to turn (or just to go for it), but no chance came so he was still completely stranded in the exact middle of the intersection when the lights changed. I sat there helplessly and watched the oncoming traffic head quickly towards my side of the taxi. My heart probably skipped a dozen beats, but then the taxi found his window and moved. So, almost hit, but not today.

Then down the final stretch, the car continued it's chug-a-lug and the driver looked left at the same time as coming to within 1-inch of a pedestrian on the right side of the road. He didn't even know the guy was there! I did, however, and my heart sped up past the dozen beats it'd just skipped and my breath shot into my lungs. We almost hit that guy... almost.

BTW, did I mention that pedestrians have no right of way and really take their safety into their own hands? Oh yes, and sidewalks are really for parking and cross-walks are like playing a reality game of "Frogger." Again, I digress...

After another long breathless and high blood-pressure block and I arrived at my destination. Safe and sound. Thus another typical taxi-ride or driving experience in Skopje comes to a close. Lots of "almosts" but no "completelys." :)

Then Some Days Surprise Me

There was no "Crying Over Tomatos" in today's visit to the market. Infact, this was one of the most encouraging trips with regards to language and cultural learning.

Christine had just gotten a DVD player and needed the all-important SKART cable to be able to connect to her ancient TV. The electronics store didn't sell them (strange eh?) so I suggested trying our local outdoor market as that is where I was able to find one 5 years ago. (You'd be surprise what treasures await the interested shopper at the local pazaar here.)

We entered the market and headed towards the "mans section" of the market (where the electronics and gadgets are). As we passed booths displaying the vibrant winter citrus fruits, multiple varieties of nuts, olives and root vegetables the sellers would call out to us, 'Povelete?" or "May I help you?" and them lauch into their shpile as to why we should buy their product.

When I first moved here I felt obligated to acknowlege each and every one of them saying, "no, thank you.... no, thank you..." Today? I just peruse their wares with my eyes and keep walking, without saying a word or even catching eye contact. Cultural victory! :)

As we made our way down the aisles, I noted how certain vendors have become my regular stops. Yes, I have a "Fruit-Guy", a "Cheese-Guy," and even an "Egg-Man." One of them was away from his stall, but we greeted each other later when we passed by each other in the aisle.

Upon ariving on the outskirts of the gadget section, I paused and right away (what luck!) found the SKART cable. Then there was some questions and discussion on what exact cable she needed. Yes, my vocabulary is still limited, but what words I had came easily. I even found energy-saver light-bulbs in the smaller size and negotiated obtaining a cable to connect my camera to my TV so I can change the settings (the LCD screen was broken in the summer... and somehow the settings had gotten changed to B&W... so I'd like to fix that...)

After this, we made our way to a fruit/veggie-seller so that Christine could get some mushrooms to stuff for her dish for the team Christmas party tomorrow. Some more negotiating prices and how many were needed and we were done. I noticed that the guy was tending to switch to English for her but would speak to me in Macedonian. That was such an encouraging moment for me, because his English was so good he didn't have to switch.

I so remember being in Christines shoes when I was just four months here (she just recently celebrated her four-month anniversary... yeah). I would get so frustrated as I tried to stretch my language legs only to find them wobbly and people simply ignoring my attempts and answering in English. They're trying to be helpful, but to the language learner, this can be frustrating (ask me how about the trick I sometimes use to handle this... snicker). Anyways, knowing that's how it used to be for me, I was so excited to realize that this vendor didn't switch with me but just spoke Macedonian and even corrected his co-worker when he tried to speak English with me saying, "She understands." Anyways, it was one of those moments when I realized a small language vicgtory. I'll take it!

After this, Christine headed home and I continued shopping. I bought almonds from the "Nut Guy" to make chocolate covered almonds for tomorrows team party. Then I headed to fruit seller (not my normal fruit-guy, pictured above) to buy some mandarines or tangerines. I couldn't decide. One of the sellers peeled one of the mandarines for me to try because he wanted to convince me that they were much better quality than the others, and they didn't have seeds either.

After the flavor explosion on the first slice, I was persuaded and purchased a kilo. As I started to walk off his partner tried to convince me to buy other things. Well, he figured out I was a foreigner and so asked me where I was from. Then proceeded to ask if was was from England, France or Italy... I responded that I was American. He asked if I was visiting here or if I lived here... then without giving a moment for me to answer he continued, "Are you married? I'm not married. You can hook up with me...." Well, I politely said, "Thank you for the oranges," and "Have a nice day," and walked away! I made a mental note to not stray away from my regular "Fruit-Guy" again and then congratulated myself on handling the situation with ease and not getting flustered (and even that I'd understood what he said... implied). Langauge/Culture victory. :)

After this encounter I made another small purchase of onions at the stall of an older woman. She spotted that I was a foreigner, but again, the conversation went smoothly and she was suitably impressed with my speaking. We shared a few minutes of pleasant conversation and then I wished her happy New Year and started home. Cultural high point (chatting with older people about anything is always a totally highlight for me.)

My favorite moment from tonight, though not at the market, was walking out of the DVD store with Christine. We were talking as we passed by a father and son. The son asked his father, "What language are they speaking, Daddy?" He asked this in Macedonian, of course. Well, I don't know why, but I answered for him saying, "English." The father started chuckling and I looked back. Oh, I wish I could describe to you the look of shocked surprise on the little boys face. Even now, the memory makes me laugh. What a fun moment that was.

While I'm encouraged by the times that locals mistake me for also being Macedonian, days like today can be more encouraging to me. While the people on the most part knew I was a foreigner, they treated me like a local, rather than a visitor or tourist. Now that is a culture/language victory for me to write about. :)

*****

If you're interested in reading about the day I "cried over tomatos," here's the link to my old blog: http://balkanupdate.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!660C45E1AF918E49!548.entry

I Bought VODKA Today!

Wow! I can hear the sharp gasps and shocked exclamations all the way over here! But believe it or not, by the end of this blog you just may be running out to buy a bottle for yourself. Trust me. ;)

Living overseas, specifically in the Balkans, you learn to live without a lot of things: live Christmas trees that don’t come in a planter pot, 3-hole punches and molasses for instance. You also learn how to work with what’s available, improvise, or, when all else fails, to (ahem) make something from scratch like, say, tortillas. Though, sometimes, if you wait long enough the coveted item just may show up on the local grocer’s shelf. Just a few of the items to wondrously appear in the last five years are: tortillas, brown sugar (both light and dark), dried cranberries, M&M’s, sweet potatoes (a must for Thanksgiving), and FRESH cilantro (yesssss!).

Now at this point you may be catching on to the fact that I’m talking about cooking or baking, but you may still be asking yourself, “What in the world does that have to do with Carolyn buying vodka??”

Oh, I’m so glad you asked. Would you believe me if I told you that you might already be using this ingredient in your baking? (Shocker!)

Well, believe it or not, vodka is the key ingredient in vanilla extract, which you can’t get here. Vanilla sugar is available, however because it’s sugar it alters the chemistry of what you’re baking. Unless you adjust the recipe you may end up with an ooy-gooey mess of melted chocolate chip cookies like I did when I made my first batch here 5 years ago. The only real option for us expats who use vanilla extract in just about every dessert has been to bring a bottle with us or have someone send us one.

Then I learned a little secret: you can make your own vanilla extract with just a vanilla bean, vodka and time! Vanilla beans are easy. They actually can be found here AND they’re about 1/3 the cost of buying them in the US. In fact, when I saw how cheap they were I bought a couple, though I didn’t have a clue what to do with them… until now, that is. Then there’s the vodka, well that’s a plenty and not so expensive either (100ml was just over $1).

So on the way home from work today I bought some vodka. (!) My imitation vanilla extract is almost gone and so I’m really looking forward to having some real vanilla extract available in just a few weeks, and it cost me only about $5. J

Now if I’ve piqued your interest and you’d like to try to make your own, here’s the skinny on how to do it:

What you need:
Vanilla beans, which can be found cheap online
Vodka
Glass containers that can seal airtight
Smaller glass containers for the finished product.

The Process:
Cut the vanilla bean lengthwise, leaving a portion still attached at the end, and place in glass container. Pour in vodka, completely covering the vanilla bean. Seal and store on a shelf for about 8 weeks. A couple of times each week shake the jar gently to mix things up.

The extract will be ready to use in eight weeks. The longer you leave it, the stronger it will get. When desired potency is achieved, strain and re-bottle in smaller containers, leaving a piece of vanilla bean in each jar.

The really cool thing about this is that by leaving a bit a bean in you can have a perpetual source of homemade vanilla extract simply by adding more vodka when the extract gets low. It will be diluted for a few days but will quickly get back to potency. Don’t throw away the remaining vanilla beans either. Store them for future use (though not in the fridge cause they can get moldy).

So there you go. Oh, what was that? Did I just hear someone grab their keys and head out the door to the store? ;)