If you think back to the last time you felt all three of those emotions at once, with a dose of helplessness tossed in, you were probably at a WalMart, reaching that desperate 2-hour mark, with a shopping cart full of things you hadn't intended to buy, and still 1/2 a mile to go until you reached the interminably slow check out lines. Added on to all this stress, in CORA, Romania's answer to WalMart, I can't really understand the language, heightening tension all the more.
Rachel and I were thrilled to first discover Cora- compared to the little Magazin Alimentarii that stock small amounts of limited supplies, Cora was like a wonderland of products that we needed for the new apartments.
However, after trip #3 to Cora, searching for yet more necessities, and watching our supply of cash dwindle all the more, it became less fun, and a lot more like... well, WalMart. Except, at WalMart, you have your car, and in Romania, after you haul your 55 bags out the exit, you realize you now have to keep carrying it all the way home, 2 miles away, or half a mile to a bus that's so crowded, your arms intertwine with 6 other people holding onto the same pole.
Rachel had gotten a bike helmet that had been a large helmet packed into a medium labelled bag (TYPPICALL), so she wanted to exchange it. We get there, and first, we're stopped at the entrance so they can saran wrap seal Rachel's book bag (incidentally, even Romanians think Romanians are thieves) and she askes "schimbe? unde?" pointing to her helmet. She is directed to the information desk, where a CLUSTER of people gathers around the desk, in a Euro-style non-line. She gets in, and uses her years of living in Germany to her benefit, elbowing her way to the front. So, she gets a receipt that she is supposed to show at the exit so she can just take her new helmet but not need to pay for it. Simplu.
So we spend hours roaming around, picking random items off shelves, putting back things that probably would have actually been useful, and suddenly getting very, very tired, and very, very hungry. 'Ok, let's just go get some groceries really quick and get out of here" we plan, both realizing how cranky and fed up we were (the store has towels, sheets, pillows, table cloths, but no curtains; shower heads, shower curtains, shower curtain hooks, but no poles to hang them off of....)
After standing in line for 20 minutes (and also getting chastised for ducking through an empty register to get to the ATM that's near the exit), Rachel's items are being rung up, and the helmet gets scanned through, adding more to the already high total.
"Nu!! Nu!!" The Romanian speaking ability hits rock bottom- no! no! Of course, this woman is the only person in this city that isn't able to speak any English at all, so Rachel and I, with gestures, halting sentences, English and Romanian try to explain: "No! No! I pay for this!- Laura, tell her I already paid!" "eehh.. umm...She, she change this, and she has received no money for this. Yet. [ie, I sound like Borat]" She blankly looks at us. We point to the display where the price is shown- "No! No money there! This, this helmet, she change it, and she has no money!" Things are devolving rapidly. "I have no money, over there, they give me only that [ie, at the info desk, the receipt] LAURA tell her I'm just supposed to show this receipt!" The woman, after I say pretty much the exact same thing rachel just said, says something about the receipt staying there with her. Finally, after about 5 more minutes of this circus, the woman continues to scan Rachel's things, and I tell her, ok, we'll just go to the info desk, whatever, they speak English there. At one point, I'm getting somewhat hysterical, and Rachel and I start giggling uncontrollably while we're desperately gesturing/verbalizing to this woman what we want.
Well, the register lady just hits the 'total' button and then SCANS the receipt, which deducts the amount of the helmet from the total sum. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&$*(3q74893781!!!!!!!!!!&*&!!!!
I'm not being insensitive here, but OOOOOOOOMMMMMGGGGG, LADY I would say it was VERY OBVIOUS that we were concerned about the PRICE of the helmet that we had ALREADY paid for. Instead of just making a gesture for, like, 'wait one second' and then totaling it and then deducting the amount, she had to insist on talking to us too quickly, when we clearly didn't understand what she meant.
Totally worn out, we find out that the cell phone Rachel had just purchased came with a warranty, and she is directed to a VERY LONG LINE at which everyone buying electronics waits in order to UNWRAP and TEST OUT every electronic item they have a warranty for.
The walk home with 30 lbs of merchandise 2 miles away is leisurely compared to all that.
And then Rachel found out that the cell phone she had purchased (in a Romanian store for use in Romania) has only a British charger on it.
3 comments:
Oh dear Laura. What a baptism of fire you two unfortunates are having. Isn't it amazing how annoying idiots with no sense of customer service really are!
Dunno why she needs a bike helmet? In big Rom road accidents, major trauma to the body usually kills.
I was in Cluj in the Selgros store - a vision of brainless communists running a capitalist venture - when some anal offical wanted to screen my paid-for shopping. Being fluent in their language, I gave the cretin the full speech about how Ceausescu would have been proud of him, called him "comrade", and told him to summon the manager immediately. Anyway, some wet-behind-the-ears son-of-a-communist-official appeared: the manager! What a waste of time. They wanted to run every blasted item through the till again as a check, just in case it hadn't worked first time. Needless to say, all the Roms looked the other way and shuffled on. No bloody wonder the communists managed to take over such a shower! It didn't need the Red Army to subdue these people: a reasonably vigorous Boy Scout troup could have staged a take-over.
Haha, you should have seen the process trying to get a LIBRARY CARD. I went back a few different times until I finally had the appropriate papers and then I didn't have my passport on me anymore and THEN clerk number 2 also wanted to read the letter I had given clerk #1 and THEN I paid for it and then I was told to come back later to get it after they had printed it... ommggg...
I'm also *very* much looking forward to getting my foreigners card or whatever- buying gov't health insurance (only for a month) even though I am insured already, getting a bill of clean health (probably just by asking for it and paying for it, of course) and then standing on line for who knows how long. My *nice* university contact already told me a former Fulbrighter had spent 3 days waiting 2 hours each time before he got to the front desk....... gahh!
I'm getting cramps from laughing so hard over here.
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