I didn't go into any grocery stores! I quite enjoy going into other countries' grocery stores. They convey interesting information. Are they mammoth? Weensey little corner shops? How are they organized? What do they contain, prioritize? It's interesting how doing something on autopilot on home soil suddenly is brought to the forefront of consciousness as I navigate a new exotic terrain in search of ordinary products.
I was thinking idly the other day about grocery shopping in Finland. Just a random moment. Here's a few of the things that stand out in my memory about it.
They sell their potatoes, dirt included, in these big bins. Left to my own devices, I don't know that I'd have ever found them - the potato section looks like nothing but big, dark containers of dirt. But you get a big sifter scoop, dip it in, shake off the excess dirt, and voila - potatoes. Bag 'em up and there you go.
For produce generally, you also need to weigh and price out whatever you buy. They don't do it at the register. The first time I tried that in Helsinki, I felt like a complete idiot. The machine's display was all in Finnish - which I don't know and probably will never learn.
Couldn't get the damned thing to print me out a price tag, and I got 3 of them seemingly jammed in error-mode (hard to tell - again, Finnish! But pushing more buttons wasn't doing anything). Then I finally stood behind a lady who was weighing out her bananas or whatever, watched what she did, and then mimed her when it was my turn. I think it worked, but I wasn't sure; I got a tag with numbers on it - hopefully it was the right price and I didn't end up paying 10 euros for a few bananas (again: Finnish!).
The next summer, I think they had replaced the machines with nice friendly versions with pictures of the produce on the touch-pad so that illiterates like me could put the item on the scale, push the button that showed (say) a banana, and get the price tag. That was a little humbling, somehow.
They sell their fresh herbs in wee little pots. I mean, when you buy the herbs, you're buying them live; you could probably take them home and replant them and grow your own if you wanted. I thought that looked really smart. And: arugula = rocket. Took me a while to figure that out.
Crackers. Finns love crackers. I'm not talking the wimpy saltine or ritz variety. These are hearty, rye-based, serious foods. Sometimes they come in shapes as big as a wheel. For all I can tell, they all taste the same. But there must be subtle differences, because there are entire aisles devoted to crackers of assorted brands and sizes and shapes.
And bread. I'm not a big on eating bread, but I do enjoy all the other aesthetics - the shapes, the colors, and especially the smells. The bakery section is large and gorgeous.
Cheese is also popular. The sections of it we find in the stores in the U.S. look wimpy compared to the gigantic slabs of it they have in the dairy section in Finland. Also: be careful about buying what looks like yogurt. They also have a thing called fil in Finland that's pretty common, and though it's kind of like yogurt, it's not the same and it might yick you out. The yogurt often comes in containers that look like they'd hold milk; the yogurt is more liquidey there.
Lots of pre-marinated meat and it is usually quite tastey.
Lots of sauna accoutrement in the health and beauty section. Lots of products containing tar - tar soap, tar shampoo, tar-scented oil that you can add to the water to splash on the heater in the sauna. Sounds weird, I'm sure, and to hold a bar of tar soap up to your nose and inhale - well, I won't lie. It stinks. Yet, strange but true, the scent that gets left after you use it and rinse it off is much like sandalwood.
Be either quick on your feet and have good environmental awareness, or don't mind the little old lady who elbows you out of her way as she's reaching for the whatever. And they don't say anything that sounds like "excuse me" when they do. They have a different way of navigating personal space there.
Bring a coin so that you can get a shopping cart. They're lined up with a kind of locking mechanism that released when a coin (25 cents?) is inserted. You get it back when you return the cart. I thought that looked VERY smart!
Bring your own bags. This is a trend that's gaining ground in the U.S. - at least in our western portion of it. Because they charge for the bags you use at the store. So if you don't have your own, you pull out however many you think you'll need at the register, add them to the pile of everything you're buying. The lady rings you up for them, and then you proceed to the end of the conveyor belt and bag our own groceries. Everyone bags their own groceries.
I remember the first time I went to a store and found out about the bag thing in Scandinavia. It was liquor store, where we were stocking up on wine (which they don't sell in grocery stores, and which is frequently packaged in boxes. Also, for American beer they carried only the worst varieties - why?). We went with the bottles, and I was doing, unreflectively, what I see happen all the time here as I was bagging it up - putting the different bottles in their own bags so that they wouldn't clang together excessively, and the guy at the register looked at me like I was crazy. Afterward, G laughed, and said "you know, I just had to pay for all those bags, don't you?" Of course I didn't, but at least it explained the crazy look.
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greece. Show all posts
Friday, June 11, 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010
Don't flush the toilet paper! Tidbits from Greece
So yay, I’m back, and I also think I’m ready to be back. Projects to finish, others to continue, and hopefully good things soon to start. But before the shine of Greece starts to dull in my memory, I thought I’d share a few verbal snapshots of bullet points I journaled on the ferry ride from the islands (the Cyclades) back to the Hellenic mainland.
* Seriously, don’t flush the toilet paper. It took me several days before that sunk in. Everywhere on the islands are signs about not putting paper in the toilets. I took that in the sense one sees here in the U.S. about not flushing things like paper towels or diapers or other clog-inducing materials. But after a while I was chatting with some friends about it, and it became clear that no, you shouldn’t even be flushing the toilet paper; that you put in the trash. The old pipes just aren’t built for it, apparently. Oh, and in more primitive places, the public bathrooms you find will probably contain what I call “squatty-toilets” – holes in the floor with two little platform thingies to put your feet on while you do your business. So, you know, just be prepared!
* “Turn right at the church” – or any directional heading that’s indexed to a church – is not helpful in Greece. I don’t think I remember the numbers exactly right, but it’s not much of an exaggeration to say that on Amorgos, for instance, they have a population on the order of 3,000 and over 600 churches. Also, concerning churches, watch yourself. I love to check out old churches for the architecture, the art, the sense of peace they contain. But one of our companions was hit on by a priest inside one of them. Can’t lower your guard around those fellows in the robes anywhere, it seems.
* The towns of Fira and Oia, on the island of Santorini, look as though they are built into the side of a cliff. But Santorini is actually part of what remains of an old vocano that exploded, and the towns lie within the inside of the caldera.
* The natural light and the colors. It’s cliché to say that words can’t do it justice, but it’s true, and that won’t stop me from trying anyway. The water is like the purest, clearest kind of sapphire blue. In the early morning sunlight, it sparkles as though it’s covered in diamonds. But when the sunlight is muted, it looks like a slate-grey, and when a boat’s propellers churn it up, it turns turquoise. The islands respond to the sunlight beautifully, too. Sometimes they stand out almost bright white; when the light is more indirect, they look more peachish or pinkish, and again, against the background of the water, the effect is transportive. Sometimes the water looked covered by low-lying fog, so that the islands and boats out there looked for all the world as though they are floating in mid-air. It is entirely possible to have a fantastic time holed up somewhere with a drink and a view to the ocean, and simply watch the way the view changes as the sunlight moves. Oh, and for sure the most awesome sunset I’ve ever seen was on Santorini. We were having dinner at Bernie and Elizabeth’s place, and I walked outside at one point, and when I Iooked up, I was positively fucking stopped dead in my tracks. The entire sky – and we were on the east side of the island – looked like it was on fire, it was so full of reds, oranges, yellows and pinks. As the sun continued to set, the colors shifted to pinks, blues and purples. And that’s to say nothing of how the colors were picked up in the water, and on the islands around. I can understand why, as I heard it, people on the west side of the island all gather just to watch the sunset, and applaud. I think those colors are the same that woke me up the first morning on Santorini, when the light coming into the window was all pink and red. And now I have a new appreciation for Homer’s expression “rosy-fingered dawn.”
* On the islands, although the tap water is eminently drinkable, it tastes salty.
* Every building looks to have solar water heaters.
* Santorini: the land of weensey roads, gigantic tour buses and small cars. I don’t know how many times I sucked in my breath involuntarily, as though doing so would make us narrower.
* Combination stop/yield signs. Never saw those before.
* Even straight-up stop signs seem to function as suggestions, and everyday road rules look to be optional. In my imaginary world, we visitors were rented bumper-cars rather than regular cars, especially since it’s not as though a person can get much speed up due to the windiness of the roads, or the good chances of getting caught behind a slow-moving ATV or moped.
* Interesting lack of road names and street signs on the islands. Generally, figuring out how to get from point A to point B means “travel in the direction of the mountain” or “follow the pointers to Pyrgos”.
* If you like orange juice, make sure to order it freshly squeezed. Otherwise, it’s like water with an orange waved over top of it.
* But on the up side: Greek yogurt + honey = YUMM! Also, I had anticipated I’d tire quickly of a diet dominated by lamb and feta cheese, but that turned out to be not an issue at all. Did I ever eat good out there, and especially on the islands! Lots of fantastically-prepared fresh fish. Awesome non-Greek salads (although of course Greek salad is quite good, too). Suvlaki. Seriously, I woke up one morning with my head on my arm, after about 10 days out, and my skin smelled faintly of oregano; that was pretty cool!
* The staff on the islands, particularly on Amorgos and Santorini, seriously rocked. It took no time to relax there in their good hands, and start to feel something like a local, rather than an outsider. They just made life so easy! Decide you want to stay at a hotel for an extra day, without prior arrangement? No problem. Decide to cut your visit a day short? No problem. For Bernie and Elizabeth, who rented an apartment not close to us, they were afforded free rides to and from where the rest of us were staying by the people who ran the property they stayed at. Happiest of all was that, after several days on Santorini, all of us were vocalizing how much we wished we could stay another few weeks. One of our crew, whose work enables him to work from wherever he’s got an internet connection, started looking around for the possibility of renting an apartment for a month there. And by word of mouth and a couple carefully-placed questions, he wound up with a furnished apartment there along the beachfront in Kamari for a month, for something like 230 euros! How terrific is that?
* On the practical side, if you’d like to do an impromptu trip like ours, some pointers. A taxi ride in Athens at night costs 50 euros extra, so plan accordingly. The high tourist season hits later in June/July/August, when it’s also quite a bit warmer – and it was warm already when we were there (although the water was a little chilly). So I think it would probably be more pleasant in late May, and also makes it easier to make less-well-planned-out travel decisions when the locale is not packed with visitors. And when it’s not packed, that makes it easy to do something like show up on an island without lodging decisions being made because at the dock there are plenty of people there waiting who run facilities and can hook you up straight away. And on the islands, the good things of life – the wine, the food, places to see, places to chill – are very, very affordable.
* Seriously, don’t flush the toilet paper. It took me several days before that sunk in. Everywhere on the islands are signs about not putting paper in the toilets. I took that in the sense one sees here in the U.S. about not flushing things like paper towels or diapers or other clog-inducing materials. But after a while I was chatting with some friends about it, and it became clear that no, you shouldn’t even be flushing the toilet paper; that you put in the trash. The old pipes just aren’t built for it, apparently. Oh, and in more primitive places, the public bathrooms you find will probably contain what I call “squatty-toilets” – holes in the floor with two little platform thingies to put your feet on while you do your business. So, you know, just be prepared!
* “Turn right at the church” – or any directional heading that’s indexed to a church – is not helpful in Greece. I don’t think I remember the numbers exactly right, but it’s not much of an exaggeration to say that on Amorgos, for instance, they have a population on the order of 3,000 and over 600 churches. Also, concerning churches, watch yourself. I love to check out old churches for the architecture, the art, the sense of peace they contain. But one of our companions was hit on by a priest inside one of them. Can’t lower your guard around those fellows in the robes anywhere, it seems.
* The towns of Fira and Oia, on the island of Santorini, look as though they are built into the side of a cliff. But Santorini is actually part of what remains of an old vocano that exploded, and the towns lie within the inside of the caldera.
* The natural light and the colors. It’s cliché to say that words can’t do it justice, but it’s true, and that won’t stop me from trying anyway. The water is like the purest, clearest kind of sapphire blue. In the early morning sunlight, it sparkles as though it’s covered in diamonds. But when the sunlight is muted, it looks like a slate-grey, and when a boat’s propellers churn it up, it turns turquoise. The islands respond to the sunlight beautifully, too. Sometimes they stand out almost bright white; when the light is more indirect, they look more peachish or pinkish, and again, against the background of the water, the effect is transportive. Sometimes the water looked covered by low-lying fog, so that the islands and boats out there looked for all the world as though they are floating in mid-air. It is entirely possible to have a fantastic time holed up somewhere with a drink and a view to the ocean, and simply watch the way the view changes as the sunlight moves. Oh, and for sure the most awesome sunset I’ve ever seen was on Santorini. We were having dinner at Bernie and Elizabeth’s place, and I walked outside at one point, and when I Iooked up, I was positively fucking stopped dead in my tracks. The entire sky – and we were on the east side of the island – looked like it was on fire, it was so full of reds, oranges, yellows and pinks. As the sun continued to set, the colors shifted to pinks, blues and purples. And that’s to say nothing of how the colors were picked up in the water, and on the islands around. I can understand why, as I heard it, people on the west side of the island all gather just to watch the sunset, and applaud. I think those colors are the same that woke me up the first morning on Santorini, when the light coming into the window was all pink and red. And now I have a new appreciation for Homer’s expression “rosy-fingered dawn.”
* On the islands, although the tap water is eminently drinkable, it tastes salty.
* Every building looks to have solar water heaters.
* Santorini: the land of weensey roads, gigantic tour buses and small cars. I don’t know how many times I sucked in my breath involuntarily, as though doing so would make us narrower.
* Combination stop/yield signs. Never saw those before.
* Even straight-up stop signs seem to function as suggestions, and everyday road rules look to be optional. In my imaginary world, we visitors were rented bumper-cars rather than regular cars, especially since it’s not as though a person can get much speed up due to the windiness of the roads, or the good chances of getting caught behind a slow-moving ATV or moped.
* Interesting lack of road names and street signs on the islands. Generally, figuring out how to get from point A to point B means “travel in the direction of the mountain” or “follow the pointers to Pyrgos”.
* If you like orange juice, make sure to order it freshly squeezed. Otherwise, it’s like water with an orange waved over top of it.
* But on the up side: Greek yogurt + honey = YUMM! Also, I had anticipated I’d tire quickly of a diet dominated by lamb and feta cheese, but that turned out to be not an issue at all. Did I ever eat good out there, and especially on the islands! Lots of fantastically-prepared fresh fish. Awesome non-Greek salads (although of course Greek salad is quite good, too). Suvlaki. Seriously, I woke up one morning with my head on my arm, after about 10 days out, and my skin smelled faintly of oregano; that was pretty cool!
* The staff on the islands, particularly on Amorgos and Santorini, seriously rocked. It took no time to relax there in their good hands, and start to feel something like a local, rather than an outsider. They just made life so easy! Decide you want to stay at a hotel for an extra day, without prior arrangement? No problem. Decide to cut your visit a day short? No problem. For Bernie and Elizabeth, who rented an apartment not close to us, they were afforded free rides to and from where the rest of us were staying by the people who ran the property they stayed at. Happiest of all was that, after several days on Santorini, all of us were vocalizing how much we wished we could stay another few weeks. One of our crew, whose work enables him to work from wherever he’s got an internet connection, started looking around for the possibility of renting an apartment for a month there. And by word of mouth and a couple carefully-placed questions, he wound up with a furnished apartment there along the beachfront in Kamari for a month, for something like 230 euros! How terrific is that?
* On the practical side, if you’d like to do an impromptu trip like ours, some pointers. A taxi ride in Athens at night costs 50 euros extra, so plan accordingly. The high tourist season hits later in June/July/August, when it’s also quite a bit warmer – and it was warm already when we were there (although the water was a little chilly). So I think it would probably be more pleasant in late May, and also makes it easier to make less-well-planned-out travel decisions when the locale is not packed with visitors. And when it’s not packed, that makes it easy to do something like show up on an island without lodging decisions being made because at the dock there are plenty of people there waiting who run facilities and can hook you up straight away. And on the islands, the good things of life – the wine, the food, places to see, places to chill – are very, very affordable.
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