Two Lifelong Cups of Feculunce

One of the most difficult things about my slow-motion wade through Eastern Europe is the whole vegetarian/vegan thing. Getting a decent meal here, besides the glorious Nutella, can be very difficult, but it doesn't stop stupid me from trying.

Today I entered a pizzeria on Karla Marksa vilitsa (Karl Marx Street) and, over the course of twenty minutes, managed to order a somewhat edible vegetarian pizza with no cheese. The lithe and very alert server kept repeating, smilingly, with ever bigger eyes, "Nye Myasa? Nye Sur?" (No meat? No cheese?). Foolishly I continued, such was my quest for something prepared by another human being. Predictably, fewer than five minutes later, the manager came over and counted down my order, in disbelief. Yes, no meat, no cheese, yes on the tomato sauce, yes on the bread, no on the mushrooms, yes on the basil.

The alien presence in the restaurant must have been too much for the other servers, because they stopped being attentive to their tables and had to slow down and gaze at the monstrosity that had managed to slither into their cafe. Soon it was like I was being waited on by five or six young women (to this day I have not seen any man work in any FSU restaurant), and one of them found the courage to ask, "Viy Italianets?" (Are you italian?). I laughed and said nyet. "Viy Espanets?" (Are you spanish?). Of course, being an honorary Spaniard, I felt like saying yes, but behaved myself. Such was the spectacle that other patrons began to chime in. Was I Portuguese, was I Greek, was I Macedonian? Clearly my Russian is too bad for them to ask about any of the ex-Soviet states.

Finally I let on and told them I was an American and, swear to god, one of them put her hand over her mouth and made one of those girly sounds that men cannot make and can barely hear. The pizza soon came, it took me forever to snarf it down, all the while fielding one-word questions from servers zooming past. Caleefornja? Beeverly Heels? Hoolywud? Las Wagus? Each answer, either da or nyet, came with it the same routine -- laughter, looks at one another, then more laughter. After nearly an hour, the bill appears, service here is notoriously slow, and the damage was a hefty 9200 Belarussian rubles (about five dollars).

As I gathered up my things to go, the manager rushed up and said "Gift for the American?" and set down a dainty cup of Italian coffee, with a small vodka accompaniment, in front of me. Now, to say I don't like coffee is perhaps an understatment. I believe it is the most foul taste -- and smell -- on the planet. I do not like coffee flavor in anything, I'm not sure I even like the word. Being the cool American drink that everyone is supposed to like, I have, in prior sittings, tried to drink it, but the fact that it tastes like ass has always gotten in the way. In my lifetime I have consumed a grand total of something like 1.5 cups of coffee. Total.

So there I sat, with eleven or twelve eyes fixed upon me, with the unholy sludge mocking me with its vile aroma. Do I drink or is this the point where I feign a thrashing heart attack and knock it to the floor? Being the recent master of the stoneface, and not wanting to insult these very nice Byelorussians, I quickly planned it out. Put in as much sugar as possible, kill it as fast as I could, then drown it with the cold vodka. At this point I should state that (a) both the coffee and the vodka were at higher temperatures than I had assumed, and (b) I cannot drink hot liquids at all, always ending with the same result: seared mouth flesh.

Needless to say, I didn't pull this off at all, my blank face turning into more of a sniggering/painful one, as the sickly hot ooze poured over my toungue, finding no relief with the lukewarm vodka chaser. Every unused olfactory gland exploded out of protest and my eyes started watering immediately. "Excellent!" I falsely proclaimed, with lips halfcurled from revulsion, voice cracking from abuse.

I quickly took leave, American tail firmly between legs, looking for the kind of relief that only Coca-Cola Light, with lemon, can bring.